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In a mind of clutter
empty CD cases
torn books
broken tools,
the wood chipping of the TV static
speaks to me like a translator
a self help tapea get up and go
a net of information
I am beautifully caught
in the whispered hush of your morning howl.

A handshake in different suits
an angel in fancy dress
we converse in sign language
I'm not sure you know how much you meant,
I spoke in the smokey whisps of burning incense
told you that I couldn't recall a time that you hadn't been there for me
and hoped the statement would be relayed
to the answering machine in your fatigued mind
tired from following the shadows of passerbys
with your trained nose
providing an invisible shield of armor
to all of those you allowed in.

I shall wear you like a wedding ring; with pride
in the silk woven web of the underside of my eyelids
so when I fret
or cannot sleep
I can close my eyes and see us together; friends through the language barrier.

When you reach heaven
I hope that God greets you with a neon halo vacancy sign
and that when I arrive
we liase on a pillowed cloud made from contented souls
standing proud with a choir
barking in falsetto
your favourite song.

Goodbye.