In Japan, they take a bullet train.
I hitchhike slowly
to somewhere dead, a lover
lurks. A snake in matted grass,
growing out of splintered beer bottles. Plastic bags cigarette butts.
All forms of excrement. A heavenly pale grey person, reaching to me. I’m
Cold meat. We walk together and lift each other over electric fences,
I look at his face, realise it’s the moon and the stars, and I’m a nocturnal being who navigates by constellations.
If he were the sun, I’d be a sunflower. We stand in a night-time shipping yard by the hollow hull of a oil filled boat –
And I tell him he’s the embodiment of every word I’ve written, my skin is his skin the blood on his mouth is everything.