Secrets Whispered.

Whisper quiet brown
secrets witnessed,
since the collapse of starfall, time
(the brown paper bag of eternity),
or the day you were crowned
with a toilet-roll tiara.

Hymns of the elderly
(secrets) to which we are witness
hither to today
kissed me only
on my
spine.

Whisper secrets BROWN to EARTH (am I boring you?):
tell her compassion from weakness.
Tell her you thought you loved her,
but you don't care for fucking kindness.
Like this laughing during the middle
of a race-track nose-bleed.
Blank stare absorbed in the geometricity of the universe,
the blind doom of the empty cubicle next to yours (no witness).
Pulling the arcane teeth from the jaw of the commonplace,
to fill yourself with the enormity of singular, disconnected existence.

Re-affirm denial,
the shell-shock horror
in my sweaty palms.
The aligned and sorrow'd foot,

a shadow striking, stalking, burning blisters in the night.
And struck shock, struck terror - shock-stricken dagger
a sordid dagger in my chest, a shock, a terror,

sordid-terror struck shock, 

struck-terror, shock-stricken.

Clean and savvy Earth witnessed whispers,
(which you whispered to the trees)
the things you told their cousins:
sprucewood, alder and the ash;

and the crumpled paper bag,
brown
paper bag,
begs me for eternity.