Everything is swipeable. The spire daggers skywards.
Your velvet robes are lifted from the tales of Robin Hood.
Today the day comes around again. Light falls
into a copper well. The tuning is electrical
& in the garden such a fine-boned man walks out.
It is dawn in the Temple. I am searching for a rawl plug
or the right adaptor. Red eye to the city, my ATM
spews till receipts. Let’s do the movements now.
The sinner. The redeemed. The secret shopper
treading water in the central aisle. Old friend,
forgive me, I have binned the voices. These breeze blocks
will do for kneelers. Touch me & touch me & let me touch.
Dawn cracks & the river goes to foil. The best notes
are the wrong notes. My palm conceals a ticket.