Your breath on my neck catches a strand of hair,

butterfly wings against my skin.

Your arm, heavy against my chest

Like a secret.

Your hand lightly cups my shoulder,

Fingers flicker like flames

As you begin to drift.

My arm against your belly

As we rise and fall.

For a moment we are in synch,

I  hold on to a pleasure

that slowly recedes,

Our breath separates

and we continue on alone.






You came to me a stranger they expected me to know.

They left us alone, just the two of us,

One frightened and the other blind to everything but need.

I accepted the role, playing the part well

Only forgetting my lines when

You astonished me with your completeness.

Then oh so slowly, your subtle charm seeped into my bones

Until you were part of me again.

Unbirthed like this, we forget the world

Finding comfort in the strange and new ,

One yet two.

The Letter

It was clear that it was too late for her. However much she had meant to him, she had burnt those bridges. Bridges made of paper.

It was type written, as if he didn’t trust his hand not to shake and give away the emotion. The words were cool, well thought out. A methodical goodbye.

He left no forwarding address, no number. Cutting the umbilical all over again, but this time there was no joy.

He signed off with no expression of love, no softness, no chink in the armour.

The letter was the only thing we found on her when the body was brought in. A Jane Doe found in a back alley, all curled up in childs pose, syringe still embedded. Eyes wide, searching for him.