Wild winters
Back at home
Freeze in time, almost
Except maybe 10 minutes
Passing library or cafe
When our worlds mingle
And blur
And my words spit at yours
And yours whisper back
Playfully
You tell me you’re sleeping
When I’m awake
You’re dreaming
No I am dreaming.
Someone’s telling me how to dress again
They say my boyfriend doesn’t like the way I do my hair
Or the clothes I wear
And that my skin isn’t quite right
Too oily, too dry
That I have to buy something new
To make me look like you?
They’re teaching me how to get my best angle
To make my bum look bigger
And my waist smaller
And they’re telling me I’m not good enough
And that I need to change
So that the person who I thought already loved me
Can love me again
There is so much to love
That they don’t tell you
In the films
‘Everyday loves’
…
I was at the same time the best
and the worst
I felt myself torn apart
My bottom half was theirs
and my top was his
and he would stroke my hair
whilst they dug their nails
into the skin around my ankles
and in the moment when I’d look up
and see him staring down
I’d feel that wordless adoration
before their claws once more
plucked my toenails from my feet
and crawled up my legs
used knives to scar me
each one on each
So I found it hard to balance
with such a mess at my feet
Maybe I had to give up that part of me for him
I would give up anything for him.
And in the moment between
my alcohol-inspired slumber
and his drug-fuelled insomnia
he pressed his drunk fingers
against my patient back
and mapped a perfect and precise future
Another sun
Or maybe the same
Wakes us early
And forces us to change
Again
But remain very much the same
And hustle into another car
Which gives good news
Exciting scary news.
Us three
Walk down past ruined castles
And beaches
And talk about each other
And laugh about each other
And queue for something
Very much worth queuing for.
Home again
To spend
Another never-ending night
Talking about
How amazing it has been
And I think
How strange it is
That your thoughts are mine
And I cannot wait to wake up
Tomorrow (and for many more tomorrows)
In a good mood
‘I think it might be your fault’
Another morning is ours
And waiting
When we open our eyes
To sweat and sun
And cover ourselves in more
Or less
Cloth
And meet him
Who I haven’t seen in a while
And miss.
In the car we gallop
Down motorways
And get caught in a storm
Of people
And when we land on the beach
We seek shelter
To eat our sand sprayed
Sandwiches
And listen to poetry
That I haven’t written
But wish I had.
At home we waste hours
Eating, drinking
Listening to me talk
And listening to him listen
A soft hum and nod
And then decide
To take the night
And watch other’s laugh
Upon borrowed bikes.
And it feels so good
To have him
And to let him have me
Because I have never met myself
Or seen myself so closely
And he’s making me love her
And telling her
‘You’re not the only one’
But meaning something other
To what ‘he’ has said before.
You slept on tiptoes
and between dreams
and told me
in your sleep
that I was stealing the covers
and I laughed
watching you cradled in cloud
and linen perfume.
You woke before the sun
and between seconds
and told me
as your eyes opened
that I’d stolen the covers
and I said I was sorry
and kissed your smiling greedy eyes
back to sleep.
He spent months devouring her body,
When he should have been savouring her brain.
You’re so lovely
And adorable.
– You’re so lovely
– I adore you.
