I held my breath for a week. My blinding error sealed off the air and I’ve suffocated since. Today was meant to break the seal, but still my hunger growls in its cave, catching drips on its tongue from shiny stalactites and grimacing; bitter-bat bitter- bat.

I’m that guy who hogs the four-seat table, with his pad n’ pen, looking completely outta place… coffee was a bad choice.

2Even the Christmas tree leans in for a stare, but when I go to meet it eye-to-spine it whistles and blinks at an awkwardly rapid pace.

He just wishes he was as cool as me, droppin’ lines insteada spines. Come January, you’re spent.

I’m hungry, but not for nicotine, caffeine, solvents or ecstasy; addictions of the physical, their prurience envelops and infects, as kisses do, but nothing’s quite as sweet as lust and every day I rot and rust.

Enter now the panic ponder! These trees of green, orange or no leaves at all, are like me; undecided. Am I Summer? Autumn? Winter? Cos I’m far from being spring, with birds of a feather at it like rabbits, whereas I’ve no beak or bunny to speak of. But my money’s on Epiphany, my three-legged pony at 52-1. Slim chance! Which is, ironically, 3-1. Likewise, I’ll fly out of the trap, grabbing my opportunity by the reigns, or the mane… or tail… only then to be drawn through the rocky streets of education; the forgotten purpose.

No matter how you may persist, I’m once denied but never twice, you’ll never kiss these dusty lips.

Though sigh and swoon have gone amiss, your own entails too great a price, no matter how you may persist.

You once denied; with silence hissed that words weren’t able to suffice. You’ll never kiss these dusty lips.

Your chill desire rolls in like mist, but mine you cannot turn to ice, no matter how you may persist.

Your feigned surrender can’t resist, but I will never feel enticed. You’ll never kiss these dusty lips.

You smile whilst clenching both your fists, but I won’t welcome sacrifice. No matter how you may persist you’ll never kiss these dusty lips.