And This Too Shall Pass

By | 1 November 2019

After Hera Lindsay Bird

You make me want to lick all the stars for their strawberry centres

And then, sick from those candy hearts, I would clamber into our bed and
Hold your too long limbs in a
Sympathy with my
Too short patiences and
I would gently promise to plant the damned aquilegias, and

To paint the ceiling in the outdoor dunny
That shade of blue I hate
But that you love, and
I would promise to never again come at you
Cold and blinking like those hollowed out stars.

You make me want to dig into the winter soil and
Take out the earthworms, to give them a better
Life inside jars of compost, warmed by a
Double glazed sun.

You make me want to find the point of scintillation
On a Mediterranean wave and
Dance up from the surface,
Into the blue depths while,
From a blue yarn of the pale light
I knit a hauberk to keep you immortal.

You make me want to lie under the shade of the linden tree
On a spring’s mild day
With my face in a sunspot
Knowing that the lines of damage
I am creating
Of this day
Of this you and this me.

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