(no subject)

[fahye]

guidelines for safety

my love you are the envelope of many-coloured money
near which my hand will never stray
as it lies rustling,
inside my bag as I stride fast and conscious of the wealth
beneath my palm. you are the yellow sign
at which I will never exchange it for the slow compression of space.

you are the cosy darkness of my fear,
waterwashed weak by the canvas between
but nanostrong and microdeep,
that I could lose you to a smarter tongue;
a closer touch;
a better pair of boots.
you are the pale grey fingers gloved and closed around your own left hand,
to the sight of which
I will never object.

you are oilslick down the sluggy wings of change,
the easy rainbow slide of lying abed past noon
and a life cut out from chiffon silk
with scissors so sharp they whisper fine
and twisted romances into the silver air.

you are the wide blue geodesic down which I will never fall;
my love you are the distance that has freed my heart.