postcards

i'd already lost ten days to february.

each morning, i would send you a postcard
with detailed instructions for seeing the world.

on the front
the photograph would always be the same.

on the back
i would say,

picture this:

thousands of bodies
embroiled in each other before the bay.

the street lights are neon hallucinations
coloured in by a cacophony of sound.

there is an expectation
that the couples might all
start kissing simultaneously,

although you do not see this happen.

white lanterns are raised to the sky.
in red letters they say,

'Breathe Life into your grand Expressions of Love'.


picture this:

a landscape of synthesia.
the merging of the senses

like a horizon lost between
sky and sea.

you put your arm around my waist,
forming an equator across my body.

clouds move backwards above us

the Southern Hemisphere is hot and sticky.

the Northern Hemisphere is colder than ever.