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.