Polystyrene

The white of it slices eyes
like a glint
of deception.

Touch brings a cringe
where ears ache to curl
inward for protection.

To hold is like a pain
that to survive must be
moved through fast.

The slip of fingers is skin
left naked    cold
exposed for cutting.

Its break is a long
stretched second
of another’s hell.


Sandie Walker (Western Australia)

Dress rehearsal rag

She had stood still. Small
bones bound in hard
foreign heels. Body wounded
wound in band-aid
shroud. Found
listing. Stitched
intricate with the great weight
of his colossal wishings.

She stood, still. Saw
he had left, had left her
tattooed ablaze in blue. Left
her heavy in helix sequins,
tricked-up mirrors, leaden
beads. Left that failed
wedding dress of shimmer and glint
tacked to skin with falsehoods
fine as hair. He had sewn her up.
Sutured tight. Tiny needled
nips made each breath
tug    tear    shred. She bled
and he called it love.

With sharp scissors she severed a thread
     stepped
Left sequins    beads    mirrors
          all to fall
               Fall like scales
                    like cataracts
                         stars
                              like darkly
                                   blooded
                                        petals.

Left a messed        maze of
                  broken shadows        dying      lights
     scattered ashes.            Left a shattered
                        mess                        of wedding
          dress, dress          rehearsal
                                   rag.


Sandie Walker (Western Australia)

Reading the sheets

One mud-red sheet laid
wild on the wide berth
of our nights.  One sheet

blue as black opal, left
messed.  An effigy of wakes
formed by bodies    hands

from our fingers raking
through the stilled
ocean of each drowned

voice.  Two sheets, their
troughs and crests a jetsam
of jagged dreams dragged

through choked sleep.  Read
cloth as some read cards
crystal    runes.  Read ruins

in the surge and stain of our
last night’s violent scends.  Held
mud-red    black opal   close.

Inhaled deeply that last shared
breath.  Surrendered to the
thalassic swell of separation.


Sandie Walker (Western Australia)

The drowning bed

He came to me rank with visions
of her     and her     and her     dripping
loose     blind
eyes     fingers     mouth
roots of these eyes
torn       balls
left to flounder.

His kisses spoke in foreign tongues drunk
from their secret sites
left wet unctuous messages
trapped in the hollow
of my tongue     choked
behind teeth.

His pounding strokes brimmed this bed with the slap
and slop     of sweat     semen
saliva.

He may drown me yet
in some other.

I cannot spit them out.


Sandie Walker (Western Australia)

This morning

This morning without you curling around my body in full question
I could not answer yes, and yes, and I love you.
This morning without your eyes reading warm curving scripture
this bed lay cold,     blind with query.
Without your hand tracing that delicate map of our history
this morning held no compass.
Without your lips shaping sentiments of entry
my own mouth struck dumb.
This morning
without you.


Sandie Walker (Western Australia)