G. K. Allum.

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Carbon (Unstable)

This morning
I awoke as a series of cinnamon kisses
born upon wet eyelashes.
These simple cold hearted and
choked tears trail
youthful, baptized skin.
Stained pillows shroud me like a martyred Christ.
Stigmata takes hold
as crimson gravitates.
I have been medicating myself with time
and little drops of chemicals.

I move through the city and speak to a stranger.
He told me he'd forgotten how to fall in love,
that he remembered once how it felt
but it was now a faded memory.
I couldn't work out if he was the happiest
or saddest man I've ever met.

I had to get to the back to the sea.
I ran
as fast as my worn down legs could carry me,
across the bridge
where commuters flocked southwards.
I passed men throwing the news of the day's misdemeanors
into dry palms.
The train rocked back and forth
as newborn babies let out newborn screams
and newborn mothers
rocked back and forth
attempting to find newborn calm.
My asthmatic lung partially filled with oxygen,
crystal beads of sweat poured down my body of tweed.
I was running from and to someone at the same time.
My legs pound against concrete.
My legs pound so hard just to get to her.

I painted walls with rose tinted shades,
inserting myself into another just to get away.
I never let this body stop.
I will never let this body stop.

Ejected from the train I ran faster
through winding lanes
just to look at trespassed eyes.
I scooped up hope and swallowed hard.
The pit of my stomach rumbled with desire.

I am once again moving in fifths.
I am moving, always, in fifths.
The horizon beckoned and
I watched a man on the beach
trying to catch stars from the sky.
He was running around as if a tin roof
to a dilapidated house was leaking.
I noticed about 20 buckets placed
strategically
on the floor.
There was a crowd gathering behind,
all pointing, mocking and laughing.
He wore a tattered raincoat that was singed with burns
and 5 days of stubble was etched wearily on his face.
His eyes were full of planets and desire,
of orbit and moons.
Slowly,
I approached one of the buckets.
It was overflowing with diamond encrusted stars.
I was so overcome with emotion
that I picked up an empty bucket and joined in his mission.

Now, I’ve drained myself of crimson
I spend my evenings looking up to the heavens
Searching for little streaks of glitter
and in the middle of the night I dive quietly into ocean skies.