The bad, the ugly and the good
I would remember you however I could.
A smudge for a face,
my mind’s misjudged, short-sighted at night,
even in grieving daydreams
the dappled light shadows your features to me.
And your voice that I think I can recall
sounds shrill and will not reach that lilting timbre
that made me safe
That made me warm.
We sit and talk in a mundane scene.
No award winning shots that capture our dream.
I know I am, but I keep it going
Don’t focus too much
or my brain will wake me,
out of this empty longing reverie.
Let’s just slide back in, butter dripping
down our fingers, eating chip sandwiches
at the kitchen table with a cup of tea
and the dog on your knee trying to catch scraps.
Then my mind switches to a stupid row
when I dug in my heels.
The hurt in your eyes. I cried that night.
Why does my brain punish me?
I know what’s coming next.
My lids are closed but I still see
you there, not there, don’t leave me
© Swarms Me 2017