We could have had it all but History decided.

Do you recall that night?
The history of our worlds slid down your marzipan wallpaper,
We licked the best bits off each other.
A tarantula cowered on your shoulder
Making you do those brave things.
like kissing my past and
flicking your future:

That Nazi, your grandfather shot,
hiding in the garden shed.
The fucking cheek of it.
Burying his body in a shallow grave-
I read your mind.
Let’s find it tonight.

Burying the dead on the beach
My Grandad boarded his boat
through the raging bullets of rain.
He survived but
with a tarantula on
his tongue.
Bury me in quick sand.
I want to feel everything beyond
the known.

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