I met myself today –
not proud of the way I was on display.
I muttered ‘I don’t like you’ she replied:
This feeling is mutual shall we call it a day.
I sensed we both felt the strong need of summer
yet summer she made no haste.
Rising slowly, lingering overly long, half dressed
only to be beaten back
left strung out low, on egg white frothy
I suggested we dance – harmonise as one
pointed toes, shadow less – interpretations.
Yet how rapidly you rotated, shamelessly disfiguring
my vision of life
Bitten back by the envy of your fun
I withdrew myself as one; back to where
winter is always, winter, wearing forever
the exact same face.
April 1st 2015