For S.L.

Foolishness had us locking fingers
into grips & crooks [urgent stuff of
other times when sex was not that
covetous act ] My mouth forms on
your name to recall our illicit graze
[perhaps too many times we found
our lips on bared skin – a corruption
of advised distances] but time riles
both of us – no brakes – no restraint
against vantages – not unless other
voices scold to disappointments [&
telling-off] Yearning smites us – but
this is an exoneration against more
dead-end lives – humdrum times of
panic in pandemic & other vile stuff
[so let us tussle & let us fall to love]

1.
Our line [slightest sand] was crossed
& it was my transgression – my steps
to you & my selfish need to kiss – so I
broke Rule One – foolishness isn’t my
way [but we don’t live in normal times
because normal is only a selection on
white goods] So – our modest tasting
of intimacy [shameful stuff!] – what if
they walked in? You my metrical clue
Two Down: Tryst keepers (6) – Answer
LOVERS

2.
This is mine – momentarily – a puzzle
of parts to understand by eye & lips –
decode – I want to pull you loose – all
your buckles & buttons to read aloud
your marks – scars – curves & then to
learn from you – how to? How to grin
& be so serious but not too much – it
comes with love & practice & time – I
have rushed these affections – crime
continues now – normality is omitted
& calendars erased – we should kiss –
again?

Everything will be alright – hope sits
between us – at nearly two metres/
Their rules demand flouting – as my
tea cools & your laughter rolls from
you – we deny all fears – no contrails
above – now – only our recalls taigle/

Nothing but curious deer will query
our behaviour – foolishness is such
affective stuff – we flirt by looks but
do not reach – this foreplay is yet to
involve skin & lips – that first joining
of limbs is a faraway thing – so we’ll

sit under sunlight & stay – patience
& other virtues settle in this space –
your toenails are purple – you finger
your necklace – you have made fun
of yourself – these are so attractive
to me – we browbeaten men melt in

your presence [we embreathe your
beauty]/ Deer are disturbed on that
land beyond your posts & low wires
[once enough to stave their closing
out & foraging]/ Here less distance
is a thing of value – you guide me in

For S.L.

Here were colours in sex [flesh-tones
first & then white clues of bone under
blonde hairs] – bent wheat – then curls
on skin – lisps of subtle fur – no whims
bristled – not yet thickened by years &
years of age & concerns [woven greys
of every hair turns]/ Gloss by vowels/
Taste that lit blood under your eyelids
as visions percolate [red] between our
advances – off-white emissions curdle
on my bare thighs with my submission
to your words [colours you’ve spoken]