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.