Heading Home from Home

As I trudge along to the stop
Suitcase in tow,
The broken wheel scraping the
Icy concrete footpath,

Your almost-incredulous,
Crooked little smile sits
Right in the edge of my vision.
Blurred ever so slightly
Like the webs of ice
On the leaves above my head.

So early, cold and quiet.
Even the birds know better
Than to greet this half morning.
I wish I was in bed
With you
Under four layers of blankets.
Toes touching….

I pull my hat down tight
And hand the driver my ticket.
11 more hours.


I should be changing the sheets

The pillow
Where I have lain my head to rest
Is steeped deeply with you.
Your delicate scent but also
The slow curve of your cheek,
The gentle rise of your breath
And the lashes of your

When I close mine I can almost feel
The the groove and judder
Of your spine beneath my fingertips,
Your feet, warm,
in the small of my back,
And the moisture
On your open, waiting lips.


I have avoided my heart for so long
But with you it’s so easy.
I don’t have to second guess myself.

The pages of the books roll open
Coloured in ever brighter shades,
A rich melted green the most vivid.
At night I close my eyes
And dream of you
And in the morning
You are still there.

Off By Heart

This circular symmetry of notes
Makes me think about kissing you.
Leaning down to your still sleeping face
To steal a gentle one before
I make my way out in to the world.

Angelically pale. Make up still wet.
Your lipstick tastes waxy
But sweet indeed from these lips.

The ghost of you keeps me company through the day,
Leaping from chair to chair like a child Avoiding imaginary lava or hissing snakes.
Peeking over my shoulder to see me write my name for the thousandth time
You push my hair back over my ear.

In your sleep you wrinkle your nose
And your fringe falls low over your eyes.

The circles of my days
Begin and end with you.
And at night I dream.

Your Perfect Elbow

The night sky
is a gentle orange
like our love.
All those darkened
yellowing clouds
seeping into one another
and turning over
just like you turn
and prop yourself up
on your perfect elbow
in the orange morning.