Sometime Last Week

I remember

when you were

here

like it was yesterday;

all those years ago

or

sometime last week –

who could possibly say,

except,

indeed,

to say:

it was far too long ago –

however long it was

– and

I miss you;

oh god,

how I miss you,

oh god,

how I wish you were here.

I Cannot Sleep with These Drums

I cannot sleep

with

the sound of those tap shoes;

this hammer;

these drums.

Can’t you take a break

from all this activity

and

let me rest a moment –

quietly

– with you.

A Key in the Small of Your Back

I could have

cut you a key,

from the bones in my spine,

if only

I had felt brave enough,

to cast

a mould in each of the ridges,

and fit it perfectly

in the small of your back.

All At Once

You said

that one day

you would stay forever,

so here we are –

all at once

– already there

and waiting

on an infinity together,

and isn’t that what love is?

Hoping You Stay

Quietly,

I let you fall asleep on me,

secretly

stretching our moments together,

and

pretending not to notice the time,

hoping

that you might just stay forever.

When You Talk in Your Sleep

I have no idea

what you’re saying

when

you talk in your sleep,

but it is

absolutely music to my ears,

and the answer –

if you need it

– is yes.

Time-Bending

Surely you are a

time-bending magician,

to make

months feel like

a lifetime of joy,

and let seconds go by,

in a flash,

with such ease.

Exactly As Far Away

The problem is that,

sometimes,

looking at you

in your tiny digital frame –

a tinier form of yourself

– makes you feel

exactly as far away as you are,

when really

I need my fingers

to find their way,

immediately,

to yours,

every single time I touch the screen.

When You Wind It Up

The little machine

that keeps things going

tends to run out of steam,

without you knowing,

when you forget

to wind it up

and give it what it needs.

If You Did

You say that you won’t,

but what if you did?

Imagine.

All I can think is:

what then?

Here and Not There

The reason

I wish you were here

is quite simple:

then you would be here

and not there.

Headlights

You are like a rabbit

I’m my headlights,

but you needn’t be;

I only keep them on

to see you more clearly,

and I’m not driving over –

only right to your side.

Every Day is Good

Once,

on a bad day,

when my insides burned

angry and frustrated,

you said to me

‘Remember I love you‘,

and ever since then

the words are burned onto my eyelids,

so there is nothing but joy,

and every day is good.

Only Butterflies

I used to get butterflies

every morning

and every night;

not the good kind.

But now

the only butterflies that are left

are the ones inside my chest

when you kiss me.

To Steal More Seconds With You

Time

is the best thing to steal

when it leads

to more seconds with you.

Nine Days

Would that there were

eight days in our week,

so that I might have

a little longer with you,

before asking for a ninth.

With Three Words

With three words

it is easy:

‘Drink some water’,

‘I missed you’,

‘Let me help’,

‘You’re so silly’,

‘I’ll do that’,

‘You look nice’,

‘I’m still here’,

‘Are you OK?’

There’s nothing simpler

in this world.

And Then You Would Know

Thankfully,

it is rare that words

would fail me,

and yet I tell you how I feel

just in case they ever do.

But if

that ever happens,

one way

or another,

I will find ways to say it,

like asking

how you feel,

and when the last time was

that you drank a glass of water,

or wondering aloud

if you are tired.

Even with no words at all,

I could touch the back of your neck,

or loop my little finger

into your own,

and then,

my darling one,

you would know.

One-Man Show

You are my favourite movie;

unskippable, unmissable.

I could watch you over,

until the film wears down,

and no longer runs

as it should.

But I can’t watch you

wear yourself out

the same way;

it would be

like losing the main character

in a one-man show:

there is no joy there,

and nothing into which

my soul can escape,

if only for a little while –

nothing to see here,

if you are gone.

In a Corner Together

I realise – of course –

that I am new in this world of yours,

but as I watch

from my bright little corner,

as you work your fingers to the bone

in yours,

I really think

that I might have

something valuable to say,

like this:

I am new,

and you are overworked,

so – please – look after yourself,

better,

so that we might – one day –

curl up in a corner together;

old,

and incredibly lazy.

When I Say Good Morning

When I say ‘Good morning’,

I really mean

‘Good god, how did I get so lucky

to wake up again to your face?’

When I say ‘How was your day?’

I am asking you to tell me

every little thing –

how many red cars did you see,

was it breezy outside,

did your hair get really curly

(as it sometimes does;

my favourite)

after you got out of the shower?

When I say ‘Are you feeling OK?’

I am trying to remind you

to rest;

to take what you need;

to drink water;

to say no –

no to people, or to the question;

whichever.

When I say ‘Don’t let go of my hand’

I am really telling you

that even if you do,

the tips of my fingers will wait;

and if you don’t,

I promise I will keep you safe.

When I say ‘I love you’

I mean it,

and what I mean

is that you help my heart to beat,

in every new second

between each slow, sleepy –

rapturous –

rising of each day,

when I say ‘Good morning’.

Let Go, If You Must

Some time ago, they told our people not to be, not to touch, not to speak. We were singled out and staying in; safe in doing as we were told.

So, even now, there are times when we talk only in code, the tips of our fingers relaying quiet messages of being, knowing and feeling: tap-tapping away quietly, under tables and behind backs; deciphered quietly in our minds and behind closed doors.

Someone will once again tell you not to be you, or suggest it might be better if we were not us, and in those moments we will spell out messages of safety with a look, or a chance grazing of our knuckles as we stand so clearly side-by-side, and yet so secretly together.

So, if you must, let go of my hands. But, if you do, keep hold of the unseen strings between us and remember the one stretching up from your back, so that you will find your way once again to lock yourself between my fingers, and never stop standing tall.

Someday we will be stepping out of this, finding ourselves exactly where we have always been: in this, deeply and free.

Here You Are

Here you are,

once again,

in my bed,

waiting there,

like a dream.

Songs Which I Could Never Tire of Singing

Stop wondering –

I am here,

still;

and yours,

absolutely;

happy,

without fail;

I am missing you,

without reservation.

Stop wondering –

or don’t;

reminding you

of all the things which

beat inside my chest,

feels like a song

which I could never tire of

singing.

Worthy of Hearing

You have so much to say,

love,

that is worth hearing;

so many things to give,

which are gifts.

The second part is easy,

it seems:

you are the most generous

of souls,

with open arms and

willing spirit.

The first part is more difficult;

that much is clear.

You will find,

though,

if you just clear your throat

and listen carefully,

that you are a songbird

who is made

to be free,

with a tune that is worthy

of hearing,

and is waiting to be carried

on the wind.

Call Me Back

Even beamed through

a six inch screen,

and stuttering

over bad connections,

you bring me

such beautiful light and sound,

as you call me back

into this dream of mine.

Head to Toe

If it’s not too much to ask,

just

weave your fingers

through my own,

wrap your arms around me,

and

place your feet against mine,

so that we might, –

with

one last sleepy kiss on the neck

– be together,

head to toe.

Hearing You Say

Naturally,

without cause to be dramatic,

I have to wonder

if hearing you say

‘I love you’

feels just the same

as being shocked

right back to life –

or, rather,

I don’t,

because I am

already certain that it does.

If I Could Stop Time

We waste –

in just the most precious way

– so much time

on falling asleep together,

but

when you are resting

on my chest –

if I could

– I would stop the clock,

so that

no more time

was wasted on

not holding you tight

in my first and second hands.

Passing Time – A Haiku

There is no crueler

irony than passing time

you wish was endless.