Night communion


We walked the park at dusk
as lovers do,
to find a spot,
a private spot for us,
to touch,
to kiss a feeling into form.
but as the dark descended,
so our hope,
a grounded starling,
fled for shadows close.
We feared the ferns.
We feared the sky itself.

And turning, cleft and wight, we felt
besieged. The thwack of cricket on
the green, betrayed
a violence,
the lowing of the cows
intruded, made us doubt
our oath-bound truth.

We fled the park at night
as lovers do,
to find a spot,
a spot for us to neck,
to clasp, to flute a feeling into form,
where no-one cared.
we chose a local pub.

The noise of drinkers
made us doubt
ourselves –
the clink of coin,
the hoppy splash of beer,
the whirling and the grinding.
Get a room!

We fled our clothes
as lovers do
in rooms,
to splice
into a self
called us,
to birth that being into form,

but as the heat diminished
so did we.
Our offspring
was as shadow –
form then air
Uncoupling as starlings
do the sky, and grounded,
we made oaths, but our words


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