You were there
in the tubular chill of December
lighting my cigarettes
telling me I shouldn’t
stealing puffs with kisses
the colour of pomegranate ice
and You
in the stolen warmth of February
leaning ‘gainst my back
telling me I must
trading life for burden
as blood ran down my thighs
and You
in the chlorine heat of August
laughing in my ear
telling me I can
whispering hope at sunrise
when all I’d won was lost
and You and You and You were there too
in the timeless days of night
telling me I was
telling me I am
telling me I shall
yet
leaving me alone
arcing sparks of clarity
in a life
not quite my own
© s rogers 18 february 2009
