Sunshine

Sunshine trickles down
the window pane
like rivers of rain
flowing through a pipe
she's blowing blizzards from,
And try as I might
the planets still spin round,
And night still follows evening
like hating follows leaving.
And moonlight sidles up
the bedposts
has its merry dance with my ghosts
and flows through me.
And try as I will,
The sunsets still sink into
my windowsill.
The daylight goes through its
murder throes,
Invisible to night,
Her cloak comes down
giving life to the half-light.
Orange as the bees are
against the blue of nowhere,
The sun still slips
when she's in mid air,
Falling, like a failing joke,
upon the steps that
lead from the stage,
connected to the crowd
that didn't like you anyway.
You're a slave to the hope
that binds you to recognition,
and leads you from reality,
Through closed doors, especially...
The moon rises up
and the sun slips past
the window ledge.
Now you can look at stars
that exist so you can create,
And wonder,
And imagine the planets they feed
as the aliens plunder.
And we bind ourselves to dreams
we'll never see again,
And I no longer mean anything -
Posh people ponder petals
on council estates.
The sun spills down my window
and on my windowsill.
I can see snuff-movie snowstorms
From where I'm sat,
All dressed up in daybreak and drag
and carrying on like martians
in limousines, wearing shades.
In the fallout.
In the break-up.
Not knowing I'm the one
she can rely on to ramble.
Why can't her rainclouds recognize
My island, moving and tangled
Anchored to her ankles,
And clasped around her sailing ship,
Navigating the side of the flip.
Bring me honey and wine -
I'll recreate sunshine
slipping from my eyes.
As it moves down my face,
Comical, like a clown,
With make-up running
away from her.
You'd laugh if you
could only stop yourself crying.
No use dying over silk.
I'll mop her up with milk
when I wake
in the morning.
And make out I'm sane
watching the sunshine rain,
As it trickles down
the window pane.