You arrive at the dinner party at midnight

and don't apologise for being late, you help

yourself to a bread roll from the basket on the side

leftover from the starters.

A man I don't know is halfway through a story

and he continues to tell it, determined to get to the end

even though we're all watching you throw your coat

in the corner and pour yourself a glass of wine

and his story finishes like someone nervously

throwing a broken bicycle into a neighbour's skip.

Everyone leaves the dinner party forty five minutes later

you thank everyone for coming,

say we must all do this again

and you help me with my coat

you always remember I have a bad shoulder.

You lend me your umbrella I guessed by your hair

it had been raining.

We meet for breakfast in the Copper Kettle.

You explain it won't always be like that.

So many people around us. You told me

this #is the only thing that makes you happy

and I still don't know what to say.