KISSES

All those kisses that you carefully place
In my toilet bin
Keep me going, still.

Tissues like souvenirs of
All that once
Was The Rose,
Are fetishes of us and
Of a love
That still is a binding force.
A veiled complicity that
I, perhaps, just project
Inside that bin and
Also around
Our lives unpaired.


I would like to see in your flat
where it is that
Your litter bin is hiding
So I can rummage through
Your discarded selves and
My selves,
So I can dive in and find
All the pearls and coral,
And the expensive perfume too.

And, then, adorn you with
All those kisses that
I discarded not.