The New World

I remember when I thought this world would go on forever.

A glimpse of a street was enough to lull me, fill me with the rest.


No sense of impending doom permeated the cupboard contents.

Nor did the shape of the buildings hold a sinister portent.


It was a small thing to envision my life in clear coloured frame.

This is the timeline of events over a lifetime, you and me and you.


Now I am small and clouded. Murky water in a squat jar.

I am guided by a single clear star that’s actually a planet.


It hangs against my neck, just underneath my earlobe and

rests there like a hand. Its directions are directional and its


language is plain. I take it in circles. Its tap root goes deep.

Sometimes when you kiss me your hand slides against my


neck, between planet and skin. Small tears form on the surface

of the sphere due to the additional emotional load. Your hand


against my jaw holds me up. I will take you with me when I go

into the new world as my body disintegrates around me.