Atkin-James
Between us
The streets are swept away
The tablecloth is all the world
The rest is just the pa**ing day
Outside of this are Soho and the far-flung islands
The stripjoints in the alleys and the grainhulks anchored in the bay
Between us
The wristwatch comes to rest
The sunlight's in your hands and eyes
By which the bread and wine are blessed
Away from here are Soho and the green seas in the west
The trainee seagulls contour-flying through the swell's long trough and crest
Between us there is nothing but the shadow
Of the future that will never let us go
To be together
Between us there is nothing but the snowline
Of the country where you will not be mine
Its savage weather
Between us
A winegla** learns to cry
But only we will reach the end
The rest is just a pa**ing-by
Outside of this are Soho and the mangrove deltas
The dustbins in the doorways and the Spanish goldtrails in the sky
Between us there is nothing but a promise
Of the future that will make no place for us
To be together
Between us there is nothing but the condor
And the miles of air towards the valley floor
A falling feather
Between us
There is nothing