Points of Reference

My axis is a blister pack

containing copper dots –

take one tablet three times daily

to subdue that feeling skin of yours.

Without it, I become

a wailing organ in a monsoon,

the eyeless monarch on the heath;

a roomful of smashed mirrors,

or a carpet of teeth, canine,

sharp and starving.

My axis is a blister pack

containing points of reference –

full stops that say there, now

pause and breathe –

see: a fat moon, a torch,

chamomile to taste;

plumes of smoke, burning peat

in the crisp air of October –

a coming sleep,

the quiet feather fall of dusk

and everything dressed softly

in its sepia self,

including me.