First Love

Sunrise. Salt.  And so we met.

Music. Midnight. And we moved.

Pigeons. Pockets. And we hid.

Swings. Sweat. And we danced.

Distance. Dampness. And we ran.

Football. Facade. Drew new lines and overstepped.

Cake. Closet. Hid beneath the sheets.

Secrets. Slippers. Tore at promises and all that bothered.

Grass. Gullies.  Tread on each other’s feet.

Lips. Light. Raised bars, chased cars.

Stories. Sunburn. And we were left untold.

Rain. Red. And we tasted the gods.

Words. Walks. Stranded at crossroads.

Blanks. Books. And we were empty.

Dates. Dogs. Fancifully fed.

Nails. Nests. We drove into walls.

Goats. Gates. Bled together, sharpened swords.

Laughter. Letters. We wrote ourselves anew. 

Toothbrush. Terrace. And we fell off beds.

Skirt. Sofa. Lay quiet under rustling leaves, shouting guards. 

Buses. Binoculars. Tied ourselves to rocks and jumped.

Guitar. Games. Bruised and bumbled.

Movies. Metro. We flashed in motion pictures.

Album. Arms. And green strawberries.

Shower. Shade. Swirled jam and cradled water.

Orange. Over-bridge. Freshly baked, burnt and spared.

Petals. Pulse. And we played to the beat.

Fury. Fantasies. And the bubble burst.

Cricket. Cats. We blew a new one.

Finding Neverland. Here we go again.

Sticky Feet

Even now

As my feet fill in the marks of yesterday

The sand covers them

Holding them where they are

The heavenly comfort of stillness

Of having been here before

Keeps me stranded

For a while

Even now

Yesterday seems sepia-tinted

And the colours stand out

Sunflowers more yellow than they really were

Suns blush brighter than before

Petals thrown up in the air

Rain down like in the pictures

For a while

Even now

Swings move to the gentle rhythms

Of our background score

Park benches remain empty

Waiting for those who first claimed them

Or pretended to be the first anyhow

And I linger by the gate

For a while

The sands will shift

Tides will rise

Other feet will fill the marks I left behind

Do not despair if you miss me

Come stand on this spot right here

And you will see me

I am that girl

Building castles on the shore 

My White Lie

Edged out on blackened stones

I trip over white lines

Stick to it still

Seems like miles

But runs in circles

So I chase my shadows

Across vales

Out of windows

Over drowning sails

I crossed the smudge in the end

The beginning

Or somewhere in the middle

Tapped it with a toe

And tread lightly on

Should I stop somewhere and leave a mark?

Stay long enough to make a start?

Leave a coloured dot

Smudge another part?

Show the world I was here

Been there done that

Silently smirk

And depart?

I stared and stared

And shut an eye

I swear it moved

I bent the line

We move awkwardly now

My pirate eye

My white lie

And I

Yellow

Stark flowers

Left white on graying lines

The petals don’t match

And we don’t like the same leaves.

We rose

Preparing to spring

You to Jan,

Me to December

Both cold, distant places

Poles of our similar seasons

Distinguishable to none.

Did I say we rose?

For yes, we rose.

But left only one.

I lazily flicked it away

But it came crawling back up my finger

I watched as it circled my nail.

It runs when I follow,

Creeps back when I turn away.

Why do yellow-blooded creatures remind me of you?

But there was my bubble

Glinting in the afternoon sun.

It was now.

It was my turn to leave.