365 Poems – 137 Here To Connect (Rough First Draft)

Here To Connect

We have got it down to an art,

how to say what we mean in

under four words. Just in case.

 

Recently, I’ve read a lot of books

about death. It’s fascinating.

And you have to agree, proud

of my honesty, proud of the fact

that not once, but multiple times

I have seen something through.

 

You never thought I would have

the energy to finish anything.

You said you’d lost hope years ago.

 

You used to say, in a voice broken

with worry, Are you even a person anymore?

And I’d laugh in your face.

 

I am here for you now.

We sit and watch rugby

all weekend, eating simple food.

I like chicken. You prefer tuna

and eat it with a spoon.

 

I have hauled the heavy chair

so it’s touching the side of your bed.

 

The first time I was here,

I wanted to leave before

my other foot has

stepped over the threshold.

 

When I do I head out into the snow,

after being bubbled for days,

the chill attacks my skin in seconds.

 

You wish that you had been

bothered about the last eclipse,

enough to get off the sofa,

go outside and look.

 

You tell me it’s all temporary,

that I can rethink if I must.

There’s no shame in it.

 

There are no dramatic pauses.

We have become comfortable

in our silences.

 

More often than not,

I sob on your hard shoulder,

quietly, the TV on mute.

 

You are still calm

and collected on the outside.

I notice the coloured parts

of your eyes for the first time.

 

You can exist, but that,

on its own, is not enough.

I get that now.

 

 

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