Birdhouse
Blue Angel Poets’ Dive: Touch
Just the vacuum cleaner now
Sits silent and alone
Kid’s echo in my mind
In this apartment that was mine
The balcony looks over slowly
Moving cars winking bright
The overexposed blue sky
The big tree dancing its goodbye
There where we laughed
And there where we fucked
This place was mine but it’s reverted
Vacuumed scrubbed and now deserted
Now it’s just full of air
Now it’s out by five o’clock
Now it’s calendars and keys
Now it’s emails and cleaner’s fees
Heat rises from the carpet
Climbs the stairs, invades the pipes
Raids the windows from the street
I smell appalling in this heat
Sweat pools in my arm pits
On my stomach, round my neck
My thighs stick together
In this stinking summer weather
I lean down at the sink
Suck water through salt cracked lips
’Til I cannot drink any more
It runs down me to the floor
I walk to the balcony door
To say my last goodbye
A breeze picks up and passes by
Summer smells and big tree pine
A million tiny hands of air
Place themselves upon my skin
Relief at last at the end of the day
Each hand peels a piece of me away