Thursday, 7 April 2011


With control I start the engine,
stammers of foresight flashing
like highbeams on a country road,
on hedgerows the future reflecting.

For now we leave in darkness,
in the shadow of the sun I will awake
alone and still with longing, it’s nothing
more than thoughts; so how can nothing ache,

even before we’ve left this driveway?
Departures-bound, our sounds of love
are wearied denials; I am not steering us
towards our months of grief.

A gear change, then I hold your hand again.
As long as this road is, it has an end;
Heathrow a double-edged guillotine and noose
- it brought my future and today takes my best friend.

Then it’s there in a blur of time, of colours
like sea on sand and stones on stones on earth
of dark iris pigmentation orbits
around mid-night candle-lit firsts.

It’s everything we hoped it wouldn’t be,
but everything that was inevitably this;
sitting side by side in each others’ arms,
tilted heads and the longest kiss.

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