The
Overtaken
Late
Autumn shower splatters
in
great fist-fulls
where
there’s been no rain for days
what
does it matter
my
heart is already attuned
to
worthless Winter
in
the layers of old clothes
I
do not recognise
the
quiet of my phone no sign
no
more
of
your arrival
I
can only pin my hopes and faint
conjured
memories
as
unreliable
as
the love that brought the sun
to
this cold old town
I
grow older
every
day I catch the mirror
avoid
its call to slash
my
corpse my error
I
did not believe in you
enough
or in me
my
only instinct was to act
however
lonely
the
howling nights
could
get
now
I am missing
nobody
will find out for days
and
hours
will
be drawn out like strings
in
my confused letterings
the
price tags look like stains
on
a clean record
anyone could spin
I
am overtaken
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