Dating : Undeniably You

It’s all so undeniably you.
Honeyed bird song echoing through
the gentle thickness of candied
Autumn air, a cosy grasp tightening
my winded chest and delicate
sun beams licking at my eyes.
Blossoms of apples hanging loose,
like your paintings on my wall
and tumbling lightly to unkempt
country ground, like my
ash on your floor.
I lend discovery to the beauty
of decay, a sharp sensation of
Togetherness.
As the rats and worms feed and
bodies are fed and freed;
the circularity of
Life
coloured before my eyes.

Companionship hauls heavy on my
back, my own eternally sweet pale
shadow celebrated at this very
spot. The pressure on my heart
amplifies a discourse of purity and
cerebral panic, a toxicity of love and
Fear.
It reminds me of of our second date;
now as then I am struck hot and
certain that I will never be without
you, with that same vindication of
immediate, innate epiphany that
I had to make you mine
and now you are
and theirs,
ours in the

Soothing calm spread across this meadow,
cool stone blocks poking scattered
amongst emerald greens and rusty
orange embers.
The calm strokes soft and pierces whole,
this yard swallows me
Whole,
gloves of comfort caressing my worn
shoulders. How didn’t I know that
wherever I go you won’t just be there
but always here, tucked away at this
rebellious wee Eden, pockets of nature
whispering secret rhymes to the
continuity of life, not death but
Absolution
as the horses graze peacefully and
birds peer noisily atop scraggy branches,
the worms sunbathe amongst fresh
soil and ash unhindered in some bizarre
respect beyond their cognition,
a secluded little cough of
Divinity.

We speak deeply, fondly and with
blissful normality. I am so relieved
as the vice of terror screams I might
not feel what it is that I’m feeling, rather
be condemned by a claustrophobic
nightmare of conversing with
Myself.
We laughed and I cried, long
soaking wet sweet tears
through muffled sorries and desperate
pleas for your advice.
I remark this is the most normal
I’ve felt since your body left mine,
a quip to the reminder that everything was
always twice as beautiful with you around.
We toast your birthday and I apologise
about the cider selection, I don’t have
any flowers yet the plant you bought
me still stands proud and bright like
the kaleidoscope of your bed
your mother coined
‘a riot of colour’.

So I pluck my favourite daisy and
plant it in a straw by your side,
possibly some subconscious inside joke
but certainly a fitting gesture as I’m
sure I feel your laughter brush my
hair with the wind.
As I walk back to the car I crumble
into my friends’ arms sobbing heartily:
‘She’s the love of my life’.
Only in memory I note the present
tense not past and I realise this
thought makes me as close to
happy I can be without your touch and I
Smile.
Because all our brief moments I’ve clung
to so franticly I now know will last
Forever.