Trouble the dark
and turn me about,
bones under foot.
Orbit the wreck,
the cobwebby sag
of nibbled years
where the mice burrow in
and the spiders rush out,
like the blood used to flow.
Bat dust from the plates,
draw the chair to your place,
take the knife and set to.
This poem is taken from Simon's second collection 'Neptune Blue' published by Salt. You can read more on Simon's website.
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