Grey/Blue

I wish you hadn’t followed me
It’s so terribly out of your way my dear
Your eyes are cold sweetheart
Far too impenetrable
They don’t match the warmth of your fingertips
They speak of your silence instead
The spaces where I am left to guess

Something that sleeps in the gaps
Between us where the skin does not touch
You were never one for declarations
Just your presence at my side
Had to be enough my dear
That had to be enough for me

I’m sure the rain has soaked through your shirt
I’d rather you were safe at home
In warmer light than the streetlamp
You walk so quietly in the rain my dear
Like a criminal or a ghost
You’re happy for me to talk
And I’m happy against your chest
My eyes closed against the chill of yours

The Language of Flowers

You always wrote in roses

Cast them in ice and in my cheeks

That’s how you thought love must be

Old clichés and chivalry

If you couldn’t have him

Then perhaps you’d take me

You knew how to fall in love

Spattered the pages with words

And your theatricality

Too shy for true advances

The air grew crowded

With the glances you cast

But you were never quite a rose

Not so hard-stemmed

Sharp-thorned, shapely-formed

You were sadly condemned

To the real world

Where you’d always be

Not quite the woman people dream of