with the eagerness
of a cliff dive i plunge to
our depths collective

i want to write about you
but i think it might be too soon

i am stopped on the cracked cement
next to a small but necessary park
in the middle of it all

there are hundreds of thousands of windows
shut tightly to keep the cool air in

the only chickens for miles
are being served up on plates
between college roommates
and lovers who find the city
more romantic than any
vague resemblance of a kiss
exchanged quickly on a narrow step
  
but still, i carry around my wicker basket
packed with old egg cartons
and carefully folded tea towels

i memorize the feeling of tired eyes that won’t look away
of how warm it is inside my bedroom with the door closed
tracing your outline in the dark

until the soft orange light of morning
paints every shadowy corner

until i have found myself feral
deep in a dark blue thicket
somewhere between you and the trees

He is so eager
to show himself
cut stones and build
a house for me

with sofas and gardens
to lay me down
celebrate my beauty
with his love

and slide me away
to the seventh heaven
He is so eager
to discover wonders

with me, in the world
of which he is dreaming
(nowhere is anyone lying
in distress or in tears)

He is so eager
never will he be old
for he is too young
with his restless eyes

I quietly slide in my own skin
when my eagerness starts to grow

too eager, the mortician, to exercise his art,

         not slowing to check breath or heart

before pronouncing his slumbering child’s term:

where gelatin and jade could not preserve Innocence’s stare,

Chemical would insure the fix and hold of Age’s cynical glare.

It circles around me,
it nuzzles its face next to mine,
shouting, "Don't be afraid!
It will work out in time!"
"But what if it doesn't?"
asks the doubting voice in my mind.
"Well than it will be a lesson to learn,
that patience and hard work
don't always earn you what you deserve."

I can hear my steady breaths
Synchronised with the whirring of the fan.
My fingers tap the edge of the table in a rhythmic pattern
Tap, Tap, Tap,Tapa, Tap, tap.
My ears are finely tuned, eager to hear the crack of of the door as it swings open
To hear your rapid footsteps as you traipse in to greet me once more.
I showed up on time with a handful of flowers and an eager heart.

* 2 hours later

My palms swear profusely
As I pace nervously from one end of the room to another,
Tak, tak, taka, tak, tak.
The heels of my shoes click repeatedly against the wooden floor
As I sit and stand and walk and pace and move and race and STOP.

6 hours later *
I wait and wait and wait some more
My head is throbbing and my eyes are dull
My makeup has come off and my hair is undone.
But,my breath is steady again
And my fingers are still.
I trudge and linger and stall and sigh
The door creaks open and I walk out, head held high
Memories now forgotten, but my pride is intact and the flowers are rotten.

To my friend,

I haven't met you yet
You should know that
What you see is what you get
I am not a liar, perhaps just
Brutally honest but
I will sprinkle compassion
On your morning coffee and
Comfort you day and night
In the dark times to come

I don't have anything to give
Except my own company and
A whole lot of love
Hopefully that's good enough
I'll never be perfect but
None of us are, so hopefully
You'll enjoy my company
Better than I do at least

Maybe when we're together
We can go see a movie
Or you could come for a drink
With me and my girlfriend
I just know you're going to love her
She's everything to me and you'll
Get along just fine I know it

Did I mention my family is big?
I have five sisters but it's not
Even half as insufferable as you'd think
They're just like me in a way except
Better suited to girly stuff
My parents are great and my dad
Gets on with near enough everyone

I hope to meet you soon mate
It's lonely without you here
I can be your right hand man
You can be my comfort zone
Here's to the day we meet
Be patient buddy, it can't be long now

Much love from
Your soon to be best friend

Finley x