• (I dare not write your name,
    For fear of flood,
    Torrential rain.)

    Baby…
    Darling…
    My love…

    My Love,

    My Love,
    We did not take the pictures
    As we meant to.
    We said we needed some nice ones
    Of just us two.
    Together.
    I suppose –
    (What do I?)
    I suppose that we were caught up.
    Caught up in that rare time together,
    And forgot that we needed more evidence to take back
    (That I needed to take back, to my second home)
    Than we already possess.

    I…
    I’ve missed you at night.
    (Thank god the fridge has a tendency to snore,
    Or I’d miss you even more.)
    I try to find warmth in the empty air,
    A shoulder, gentle curve of an arm,
    The brief press of lips on my hair.
    But I cannot succeed.
    For once, imagination fails me
    And I am strangely alone
    Amidst the discordant (but, now, familiar) lullabies of this city.

    (Entirely) Yours,

    (Dare I sign my name?
    The returning fear,
    Of the silent rain.)