Marcus: an image

They tell me I look younger than I am 

and I wish I were 

new and eight again,

air gushing into my cheeks 

as I fall 

earthwards

and see the hope 

and destruction

cycling around one another, 

weaving like rodents 

in the dark. 

Subtly curls over my tongue

and I like the way the B slips 

like a marble down my throat 

and lies with all the words 

I'll never know

and all the lies 

I've ever told 

and am I a man 

in every language? 

The creativity of my mother 

and my sister 

and my aunts 

evades me 

as I circle in wires and rules of reality 

in this sekai 

and its plans and my plans 

for me 

laid out in code 

and my own code of secrecy. 

Teach your age to me, Sempai 

and I'll give you my young time 

in breath and 

words of kind 

and consideration so easy 

to fly home 

and be bedded in 

all that I know but still, 

I am holding 

all that I've learnt being gone.