Wednesday, 31 August 2011


At the redder end of August
You and I screwing
The tops off bottles,
And filling them with petrol.
I can't forget your giggle
As we siphoned the petrol,
Or the picnic we had
To empty all the bottles.
You lay there
Terrifyingly beautiful;
That smile,
A flash of white light
Tearing a hole in the summer skies.
I almost forgot who I was,
Where I was.
Our glass arsenal
And some ants
Stealing the crumbs from the sandwiches.
“Let's go.”
You said.
A kiss
Before we packed up the picnic.
And the bottles.
We caught the bus into town,
Then spilt the cost of the matches.