BORN OF STARS (1)
BLUE: Neither birds nor writing take 'anything' away (from you, from me).
GREEN: He did not ask of anyone, he simply went his way (and I am sad).
YELLOW: To be in the company of swallows (in another country).
GREY: Because where I am there are no forests (but I am going back).
LAVENDER: Joy is out-of-the-world, bird forbidden (those first calls, precise, 6am).
BLACK SHINE: From the nether realms, writing, down below, further down (where that strange tremble begins, and does not end).
MATT BLACK: Much more tiring, solely loving, to make a life, oh to be included (being the spacing of things, ah sure).
WHITE: The banishment of birds, starlings, sparrows, crows: bird-writing (and the need for a body).
WHITES: So many uncleans, birds, still (a touch, a tact, swallowed with saliva, barely foaming).
PINK: Touch me, the touch of hands, hands touching, taste for the touch of hands, and so leave, I was going to say leave, I'll be there, trying to tell a story.