You came with Mr Rhetoric
and the light found a pattern
for his squat figure guarding the door.
We sped, or rather I, through countries
I never really knew
while a fire fell in the grate.
The phantom caller sketched my hand
watching the butterfly ring
beat metal spirals on my finger.
My favourite perfume was a room of laughter,
in the sound between my aurascope
clouds emptied of your face.
Sound Archive (Seren, 2011)
You can purchase Sound Archive for 20% off directly from the publisher.