Anaesthesia.

Anaesthesia

Distance the darkness in your eyes
Two pearls of sight that lead you blindly
Through the night
Bridge
Underneath the pure clean sky
Slipping through the cracks
Gently sinking into the dirty
Rivers tide
Scraping snacks
Unseen bye
Passerby
Throwing orange peels
Cheer stained lines
Above my drowning
Seagulls fly
Safety is reaching
Across to
the other side
Where gryphon stands
Guard over
pretty truffles
On the way to
the floating market
was where i rise’d
back
to London above
or did i float
weight down to london below
you cant have both
the cracks the cracks
you cant have both
never never
caught between the mirrors tide
where
above or below
we decide
every time
we fly
rise die
foxes, pidgeons, rats,
like pop-eye
my foot steps
souls i know
no matter how hard
i try to walk above
my heart always sinks
through the cracks
through the cracks
forever it beats
my love
my love
my love
rosey my love
you cant have both
know you cant have both
from up above above
i strike out
row row row
towards my heart
that for ever beats
like beautiful hales
rain storm
way down
wave deep
for me
in London below
-Anaesthesia


- can you spare any change please -
The girl looked up at me, scraggly strands of dirty brown hair, almost shielded her eyes from mine, but i could see her soul-laced chestnut eyes were brown, and full of despair,
Aneasthesia, i cried, its you, your alive, i thought you fell on the night bridge,
"do i know you"
I told her about the rat-chief and door, but she just stared out blankly, confused, She had somehow lost all memory of london below,

"My names Mari, not anna-whotsit, so can you spare any change"
I was holding onto a piece of cotton wheel, wound with red thread and with a needle stuck in to it, the cotton felt warm, I handed it over,

"cor, thanks, and its got a needle"
she looked happy suddenly, we both smiled at each other, just for a second,

"may your palms be crossed with silver" I replied leaving the girl Mari, who had once been Anaesthesia sitting underneath a bridge, around the corner by a peeling poster of a band called primal scream
I noticed on the palm of my hand someone had written in blue biro, the stars your life will shine, then i opened a door in a dark pink brick wall of a warehouse, the door became a sort of chipboard wood before it faded, into shadows i could see the blurred outline of a forest of dancing trees and spinning leafs hanging on small pieces of white string

"quickly Richard come on, what are you waiting for" sung out door, shrilly, from the other side
and without looking back i left london above behind me
for ever.