Ita

Why hurt me with your truth, don't leave me with your schemes, or melt me lemon crude, with your bows and parlay, and easy ballet scenes, would you run a silver train, across my lips of wasted tunes, dance feather like as a bee, quarry me pink cheap perfume, bring me home again, and tastefully ease, my hands towards the flame, with your shiny satin shoes, splayed like tambourines, make me sing the blues, once more won't kill you, if taken to my knees, listen to my hips of glue, fire my extremes.

Indiana

Smoking a cigarette i exhale, a lover's old face comes near, uplifted on a nail, geese wheel the sky, haunt the clouds like deer, i knew her passing by, yellow wrap around her frame, she came this way for years, ice and blue her name, colours of no reason why, can anyone steer clear, that unforgiving dye, absorbed by a forgotten name, it's never easy to adhere, what we think of again, a woman who always gave, blew flames around my fears, shared jokes heard the train, then disappeared.

Idaho

You give a smile at Faro, the beam bounces in our room, salt from last night’s tide comb, when you rise from the covers, face a relic of alternate gloom, are you solace or a lover, useless at catching the tone, a matted highway of warm refuge, you reveal all your bones, for dreaming you wonder, on some road you’d rather lose, or like me see plundered, love you gave to lonely souls, carpet salesmen consumed, beneath your weave of rose, the sea crashes all alone, a disco for your retinue, green and gold like the foam, explosion of your perfume.

Irena

I was sinking slowly, we are leaving there again. drink wine think about going, but i haven't got the energy, she makes such generous claims, this friend who gently, arranged her Da to give me, a five and dime dollar home, somewhere near the sea, where she works happily, and rides on bycycle lanes, living an easier life, men who want to touch her glow, reel when they see the pain, dance on lonely bones, nothing is like being alone, with a lover uncontained, she paints her face and groans, i sit and watch the rain.

Idola

Our love of the rain, is a burning tyre, not pine needles and hay, an offering to the Gods, like ice cold fish knives, to show we're not alone, we were never easy or brave, around blue midnight, for what my family craved, demons rattle their bones, among candlelit signs, they pester me for loans, will take them anyway, our eyes meet the tide, at some terrible place, won't keep trouble at bay, this lifeline required, stumble in the roaring Hades, dampen their fire.

Ianira

I stand by an unlit lamp, a tree, a bridge, the remains, of dinner like a tramp, does my unkindness share, your red lips and white face, a cigarette to spare, waiting for the clamp, forgotten fountains of champagne, who needs mountains, when you can send a stamp, like loading a freighter, from hotel rooms in France, you were happy there, listening to the rain, you always let me declare, show you the dance, whiling time at brown cafe's, what we needed to enhance, you didn't say.

Honey

That year was no symphony, always another scene, my partner out of harmony, a photographer of the dead, and unashamed functional streams, wants to give it a rest, all our could have been's, are dazzled by the sea, radiotherapy changes everything, I always failed the test, difficult to find a new identity, when other lies have spread, do poets get longevity, or rage about midstream, when it's time to leave, a laughter not too deep, dreams of heaven and ice cream, lipstick, Guiness busy as bees, praying for some peace.