In the hollow of a church
We undo our lungs
Together, gently,
Anticipating collapse.
But the air
Pushes back its light reply
And holds
Our fragile music
Above lips.
In the hollow of a church
We hold ourselves with song.
I will hold your hand. I will
Press my nail
To your skin, giving.
But my rasp can't bring itself to try
Song.

The one numb breath
My fingers move
In the pause before...hello?
To my ear. Hello? The screen.
To my ear. Hello? The person
You're calling is not available.
To my ear. Hello? The person
Is not. Hello? To my ear.
Is not. I am
My fingers.
My one numb breath.
​My scream.

Hello...
You have selected. No valid option.
I...
Never share.
Would...
With another person.
Like...
Your personal ID.
To...
I'm sorry but.
Say...
I'm having difficulties. With this call.
Say...
Please come back.
I...
​With a valid option.

Dawn, with rose-red fingers
Tinted my window.
The words "Tell me, what you want to do"
Were printed on her silver lining.
I thought of days of grey
Condensation on the glass, my breath,
My breath, which could too easily rise,
In and out.
When I held my breath in
And said I was afraid
I could not say,
The carpet was all that spoke to me, low
And low,
Her rose-red fingers tilted me
To face the carpet.
The silver of my chest
I had been saving for a better day
She threw to the fire of her sunrise
And said, "This is it then, for you,
Down it, down the low."
I said I was afraid
To down it,
I am down, dawn,
I can't down it, dawn,
Another day,
Dawn, another day.

Something about the phrase
Settling down
For the night makes me start
Sheets vertical flip
I am flat against the wall
Bones tied to a centre
Somewhere in my throat
I throb
At the shock of my limbs
Dull with skin
Feel heavy
With everything I have been
Racks me to this
Like a child
Frozen on a top step
Listening
Trying myself in the cold
On the edge.
My eyelids flicker
For a day
When sleep was sweet
In the memory
I sink
Into the sadness of my mattress
It will hold me
From where I want to
Roll out to the floor
Crack my head
Jolt my bones
Flat to the surface.
Heavy with the touch
Of warm sheets
I take myself out
To shiver
On the edge of sleep
Where nothing can hold me
And no time can leave me
Here.
I have been left here
By myself I have left myself
Here.
Leave me here
To think of a day
Where after weeks
Of self-denying sleep
Starving
I would let the duvet
​Wrap the day in bed.

I get nervous every time I write
That no one will read it
And that it will come back
To me without meaning.
I get nervous every time I write
That someone will read it
And see I've put myself in it whole.
I get nervous every time I write
And I never come out whole.
I get nervous of my writing -
I tear the whole thing to shreds.
I get nervous of the self I write -
​I tear myself to shreds.

Say your sentences again,
More of them, of
Words which sing
In your voice
That made me feel as though mine
Could be floating
On its wings