Everything I cannot say to you I say to you
The wind whips The glare hurts
The tide has been turning and turning in my blood
The singer, shall I turn her down? What time is it now?
The words are everywhere
Glossy, listening for rain, jaywalking The bench is warm
If I close my eyes I will not give myself away
Too much history with you Too many added-up hours An everyday kerning
A chemical addiction The habit of you
Squirrel, hare, lion Animals Exchangeable skins
We are growing a moveable garden Which we plant wherever we sit Fernucopia
Pavements Corners
Collapsible weather favours us
Tiredness harmonises us
We have grown companionable
Crop after unseasonal crop
So what shall I do with the sleepless hours
Where is the lullaby that was written for me
The certainty of you Stance, mile, pace The comfort of you Just far enough away
We have foraged together Read each other’s minds No, we are not together Not the way you think
If I introduce myself gently to the idea Of forgetting slowly
Your presence inextricable from mine I may recognise the simple fact
Of separation
One by one by one I may pull out Every weed and pick the flowers To eat, or steep, or press
Between this page and that