We tip toe our affections over fields of pre-planned rules, our designations set in secret around our feet we sing words of love into unshared ballads on dusty tapes locked away in childhood closets amongst the pink and blue toys that reduced our world to shadows the flowing river, hidden inside, whose waters are washed in undiagnosed paths as the ever changing currents travel free to the hearts of those with whom we were meant to be we wash up on the shore with bruised flesh, throbbing with truth, filled with the voice we'd never allowed ourselves to hear as it whispers, “be true above all else” into our ear About the Author: Dave Cullern is a poet based in Hastings, UK. He is a doting cat mother, the vocalist of the band Haest and runs the coffee company, Sham City Roasters. His debut poetry collection, 'Fuck Ballads #1 Modern Extremes' is available now. @fuckballads

The Locksmiths Are My Friends by Dave Cullern
We tip toe our affections over fields of pre-planned rules, our designations set in secret around our feet we sing words of love into unshared ballads on dusty tapes locked away in childhood closets amongst the pink and blue toys that reduced our world to shadows the flowing river, hidden inside, whose waters are washed…
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