the colours of real

on the shores of babylon i have wept.

i saw you emerge, naked, fully formed,

& clutching the hair of the ocean-goddess.

& i waited here in the dusty streets of the city

fashioning my songs by hand from beggar’s alms,

clothed in the colours of real.

no i watch you, the ancient one rising,

grasping towards the infinite,

unraveling the skein of lies out of the water,

from the lies outside of time.

i behold you in fear, wondering madly.

the unexpected wake of old desire.

i am simply wondering new ideas into being.

if you make the clouds into cloth

i will stitch them. i will make a sail to guide our ship

into the far-off ocean.

i will teach you to navigate by star

& train your hands to explore

the shores of new lands.