The London Hours, 2012



I’ve no fangs

no more love

bites stored up


memories of bundles

rolling up

and down rooms and


halls reflected in bathroom

mirrors that I would not

dare to look as


if dirty but not if

locked into your eyes.

It was a chain


fastening us in but

I fell the floor

and clanged you


used our shoes

to shun me

it was your shame.



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