Words by Oliver Cocks
Art by Lotties Van Wijck
Tonight, I need no eyes but yours:
what’s left of sunlight, I
will hand to you,
what remains of day.
Moist summer:
the nights throbbed
with cricketsong,
the grass bristled
beneath sunflame,
and all was alive
to the eventuality of decay.
I need your ears,
to pour into them my story
To whisper thunder
into your heart.
The balmy nights
did not yet swelter,
The birds still lived in the bush…
We met.
And again.
And again. And again.
I think of you,
from time to time
(…to time to time to time…).
Your voice like summer
in the wastes of my brain,
radiant summer
awaiting autumn mists.
I still miss you-
always will.
Now, the summers writhe
and the icecaps melt
