Now that we’re over
You are in camera

You are a burned-out film
In an empty cinema

I am a wanderer
And I am not alone
But I feel alone

Now that we’re over
I live like an animal

A keening animal
A hungry animal

Entirely my body
I am a tendon

Designed for survival
Made for suspension

And I want you to know I’ve worked it out
And I want you to know that day by day day now
I get it
I get it
I get it right
I get it
I get it
I get it right
I get it
I get it
I get it right
I get it
I get it
I get it right
I get it
I get it
I get it right
I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it I get it


You can zoom into those pixels but
They make no sense
The computations
Are immense, it’s like
The size of the heart

It’s just a walk in the park
It’s just a walk in the park

But this picture of you is the physics of you
Running around in my head
Then the physics of you is the absence of you
Running around in my head
Running around in my head

Those eyes.
How high wide and high those eyes.
Increase their size. Raise them fifty, maybe sixty stories.
One hundred.
Two hundred.
Three hundred stories.
– with her head in the clouds, as ever.

We’ll build her way out on the headland at the harbour walls.
You’ll see her shining in the morning sunlight; hundreds, no, thousands of floors.
A staircase in her spine, you couldn’t climb her in a day; you would die, you would die, you would die. Or get bored.

And if they ask if it’s a monument to loss
I’ll tell them all about the budget and the running costs
Nobody’s business but mine
Not a public shrine
Not worth the time it takes to climb up to her smile,
to look out of her pupils at the sunsets she will never see.
You wouldn’t be inside that photograph
Her headroom would contain no laughter
What would you even describe?
You’d never see her smile from the inside

I didn’t do it for
Love I didn’t make it for
Love she isn’t made out of
Love it’s not a question of
Love I am removed from her
Love I am apart of her
Love I am decoupled from
Love I am a figure of
Speech she is a figure of
Speech it’s a displacement of
Speech she’s a displacement of
Heat I’m a displacement of
Heart it’s not a walk in the
Park it’s not a walk in the
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