You came around my house
and in a whirlwind of silences
(Fumbling, stumbling, gasp-crammed
You took away four letters from my
alphabet set
and suddenly I couldn't spell innocence
(All that was left was an
i …)

I collected memories
like seashells
but when I turned around
you'd washed them out
in your wake

They knew I was different.
Meal-times became forced affairs
with suspicion peering nervously around the teacups
and tiptoeing from plate to plate
hoping to go un-noticed.

It succeeded
For a while.

I turned elsewhere.
I vented passions on my mirror
scrawling emotion
watching lipstick cry,
bleeding 'Ruby Honeymoon'
onto the clouded surface
(when I can't hold my breath any longer
my soul bursts out of me
and tears through the air
renting holes in my card pyramid
until I'm left in tatters
with just the jokers to cling to
–but all you can see is

Then I collapse
to the floor)

I found the sadness in
silly things
crying over
the tiredness of the wind
and faded, time-forgotten tombstones

then you came back
just like you'd said you would
and shuffled me back into place
lining up the corners
just like I knew you would
and smiling that crooked smile
at me
just like I'd dreamed you would

I trace your swirling tattoos
rewinding the sins painted on your skin
They named me Eve for a reason
but you catch my hand.
"Don't touch them," you murmur.
"You're too delicate."
I gather together a grin
somehow you always make me feel
like Bambi on ice
over and over and over again I cried
for little lost Bambi
and close my eyes.
When I open them again
you've turned away.
I kiss your shoulder
pretending that my lips
recognise these symbols
of "love" and "harmony"
and call you back to me
my siren call, sailor boy
then you smile at me.

But it's okay–
I know that you'll be back again.