karen sinclair (brighton)

Tears hung as re-guarded chandeliers
Unwelcome and yet they arrive
The entourage of my mourning glory
And she was my morning glory

A bright turquoise Shanghai parasole in a brilliant summers day
Creates emerald green on brass reflections
Did you know that? i never did till yesterday

And two black candles lit (lit hours later)
Post the momentary
Missing you's beneath Shanghai's moon

It not the real form of the wax which drips as tears past the glass
Of remnant wine bottles towards one perfect garden table which holds thoughts
Nor the dancing flickering all whimsical
Flames
No
No

No

Its the tiny aftermath of ribbon like smouldering black which twists off and upwards towards a twighlight planed sky which executes
Which severs which cuts
And guts this floundering form

Who strokes the cat of pity for a moments respite
Who needs the stray more than anyone on the day she missing
And hurting
As this one stray whose overjoyed at the thought of one very soft blanket lain for her
So overjoyed, she chokes on her own purrs
Even with painfully aching hips
She finds joy in just one blanket and the company of I
That made me smile
Yesterday
Thank you Bebe
Miss you sis happy birthday xx