Growth and Decay

You and Edwina were interchangeable

When we sat together in the quad

Drinking gin and ruby orange on the grass.

You took us aside, kissing her and me,

I chose the one with small bones and paler skin.

We played naked in the green waves

Observing anemones, pondering seaweed

And what it feels like to photosynthesise

Grown-ups, busy faking it, don't bother with insides.

We had new feelings and parts to explore.

In the light of the afternoon sun

I watched your little chest rise as gold streamed

Through the half drawn curtains.

All was growth and informality.

On the day Edwina was buried

The sky took on your loss, turning blue grey before summer ended

I had to flee, somewhere colder, and a rival took you.

News arrived, I went to think outside and saw a deer;

In the stillness that blizzards leave when they finish weeping,

I watched its eyes as blood filled its car-crushed lungs,

A gentle panic took hold of us, a need to hold on.

After you and I learnt to love each other again

I realised why black spiders must consume their mates.

Paralysed, wrapped in silk, arachnids grow bored

Struggling free from each other's grasp

There is movement, energy to feed the young.