The Shadow Cycle
A collection of poems featuring my shadow.
He knows I want to talk about you - that I've been thinking about you the whole time. He can sense your ghost lying at my side in the grass.
It's a longer one, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read ;) I stand before the mirror, let my dress crumple to the floor, strip until all that is left is my necklace...
I fled England like a fugitive. Exiled, I flew south to a forgotten corner of France to tuck myself away in a world of orchards and stone cottages.
We share a cigarette, moving closer; inch by inch, drag by drag. Until his arm is around my waist, and he kisses me...
We find ourselves huddled on a bench, by the Thames, opposite Big Ben - his bright, white face mirrored, not only in the river, but in the moon, pastelled onto a cloud at his side.
One, final ritual, before the 'Big Push' - 'Le Grand Départ...' I carefully remove all the posters, photos and cards from my bedroom walls.