365 Poems/43 Protection (Rough First Draft)


I can hear the wolves,

but I can’t see them,

and loneliness fills my heart

like damp, woody vegetation.


I’d like to retrace my steps,

back to that time

when my skin smelt of neroli,

oranges and sandalwood,

yours of pine, apples and nutmeg.


That time you gently

pulled my head backwards,

held the small of my back,

and made me look up

until I realised that the night sky

was not ordinary.


That time when every moment

was tense and dangerous,

when you wouldn’t let me out of your sight.


That time we ate ice cream too quickly

and had excruciating pains behind

temples and foreheads.

I never had a chance

to show you my hiding place,

where I go to when the day doesn’t work.


I’m awkward on land during summer,

lurking at the edge of the water

waiting for the ice, when everything changes,

and fear of the unfamiliar

drives me the break the mould alone.