The width of skin

tell me again what shape the world is, or
how 85% of communication's non-verbal
or that the hair and nails grow after death
             all these indisputable facts
distract me from counting all the women
you've left me for since you told me mates
were more important than anything elkse

and tell me how time's an arrow
that can't be pulled out of the flesh
yeah the ocean swallows everything but
we're only drowned by the tides within
                         all these inevitabilities
so it goes without saying the most
tender and shameful things are unsaid

you sense the other body holds no truth
that could rise up to meet your arms
your hands lie at your sides and cry
             when it comes to touch (men
or women) it's all angles and perspective
a million hidden strategies
give us eight days in a week
there'd still be these outbursts

let's just say there are no rehearsals
for friendship                these days here
in Collingwood we don't go to bed hungry
just unknown and fahionable   whether alone
or not  this is the ration time has served us
one person's dreams cast shadows over another's
             how could I ask for more?

just this... as their skin curves aroound you
tell mne there's an argument in your body
and teach me how to swear in this
improbably language     I need to
hold your attention for the length
              of a coffee or our lives
and I reckon I'll dive into this space
'cos you can't tell me the stars I can see
have by now extinguished
                         there is still a light
and the distance could well be
the width of skin