Dipping into

  It was nicehaving you around, your headspread on pillow, your body stretchedinto the bed, the sound of early morning breathingthundering in my ear. Yes, it was simpleat first; my heart pounded neuronesmy body swept with sweet surrender,I became just what you were afterto keep you next to me. Then my feetbegan to falter along the streetthat led to front door &I didn’trecognise the stranger that youseemed to be. Yes it’s wildbeing an artist: a collector with a bottleto pickle damaged choices& often bring them homefor tea Here the houris getting brittle & my brainis numbed with knowledgeI’m alone with insects buzzing,I hear their voices churning. Yes, it was nicehaving you around, likean iced cake on a Sunday but Iwouldn’t want  to make a habit,of inviting you home for tea.