waking up to bbc your alarm clock radio was the soundtrack to our mornings at your parents house where they only sometimes knew i was there but we would tip toe but the floors creaked anyway
your purple royal platform bed with an angel floating above it sometimes i would accidentally kick it and say “sorry” and you would laugh and flip me over like a pancake we spent national pancake day apart but we spent other days together and we were in love like when you’d roll a cigarette and make me some of your moms soup and we’d climb the fence in our socks and they became damp like my eyes on the train home from the fox
you made me breakfast one day while your mom was doing yoga and then she asked me about paint colours and offered to make me a smoothie i wish i could have said goodbye one more time i imagined what our kids would look like they would be beautiful they would be beautiful wild eyed and dark pupils we thought we almost had a kid but we replaced her with a pill and 5 migraines