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You’re a scavenger / so restless in your wakings / picking remnants in the hours / thieving at the doorstep / to sleep－this threshold / I turn to your profile / mussed hair dark on grey / we are always touching.
Precipitation before thunder/anticipation in the dusty wings/ premonition & catalyst/excavation site unseen/the poem poised to be written/a treble clef before dancing notes/the dapple around the whisper/a story unbirthed & untold.
What about compoundnounsthatrunlike this. Something here about the glory of native bush even tho you have never been beyond zone 3 on PT. Add doleful '....' Beckettian misery here. (Phew, your 20th century Lit Minor was not a waste!) So winning so woke you never even zzz.
If I could write you out of my system / I would / siphon every last drop away / drain the bloodstream / flatten memory / and sandpaper flesh / where skin impressed / upon skin / on your audio track / I would press delete ...