Old Love 

I often think about 

The nettle stings on your legs

when I pushed you from my lips.

I didn’t want anyone to see us

Locked together, in love.

Even then I was afraid of what bound us

and even now 

I’m still thinking about then

and your prickled calves

hands shaking but my mouth laughing

and all of my body was wrecked.

Tense and stretched from my stomach

that pull, the tether that connected us.

But now I don’t feel you 

pulling back.

The Palm House

​The ticking hands of time and
Many miles more than before is what lies between us now.

But still, I find myself in this place

That’s so similar to what I once called ours.

So I sit on a bench in the same way I did before

And let my hand creep into the empty space that was yours.

The earth smells different to how I remember it but what I remember most is you.

Your hand chained to mine, like I was your anchor.

I had to stay on the ground while your eyes drifted away to the solitude in your mind.

I always felt like they should shine brighter, your eyes

But they were suffocated under the shadow of your sadness.

I found comfort in the smell of the tree-tinged air

The feel of the earth in my palm waiting for me to create something with it.

It wasn’t me who kept everything down

And I was never meant to be an anchor.