THERE ARE STILL STARS IN THE FAILING SKY

THERE ARE STILL STARS IN THE FAILING SKY

THERE ARE STILL STARS IN THE FAILING SKY

My best kisses were there.
I hope you kept them.
I don’t get up that early any more
to walk the waking streets and nod
at breadmen and milkmen,
watch weary nightshift workers
falling out of their skin,
like drunks,
passing shops
and the faint echo
of other countries.
 
I nicked a bottle from a doorstep for you,
put an elastic band around some daffodils
I couldn’t believe,
there were still stars
in the failing sky.
 
Forget the politics of your body,
the other coloniser,
it’s not a sin
there was a life
we couldn’t get lost in.
 
Your best kisses.
I’m knocking on the door again.
Come down and let me in.