The smell of
fresh coffee
and bacon

Milka's mum
opposite
drinking tea

her dark eyes
focusing
on young me

won't be long
she tells me
but she likes

her warm bed
and mornings
are not her

favourite
time of day
(I knew that

Milka liked
her warm bed
I’d been there

unbeknown
to her mum)
want some toast?

Or more coffee?
No I’m fine
I reply

listening
for movement
of Milka

from upstairs
I recall
her small bed

us in there
(her parents
had gone out

to the shops
her brothers
and my friends

gone fishing)
us warm there
making love

listening
to the bed
for a car

returning
birds singing
cows mooing

from a field
what’s it like
with Milka?

Her mother
inquires
O it's good

(she's broken
my thought chain)
she can be

a handful
don't you find?
Yes she can

I reply
seeing my
reflection

in her left
and right eye.