You’ve returned to our shores.
It’s nice to see you again, my friend.
Tell me all,
Tell me everything.
Tell me of your exploits and adventures.
Tell me about the demons who chased you
And the angels who led you
While I sat here in my watching chair
Clutching diamonds and wishes.
Tell me of your steps,
Your foot-ache leaps into darkness
While I bathed and drank and spat.
Tell me about your intoxicating sights
While I poured gin onto my dreams.
Show me the scars you received
While I rubbed soft oil onto my skin.
Show me your empty pockets.
Chris Bennett, October 2015