twisted nostalgia like a drop of lemon on my tongue
sent sugar-dizzy by the crystallised
thought of you in that black dress
rainfall we knew was coming like another disappointment
days become water maybe they already were
their silence bruises me in new yet unsurprising ways
I am assaulted by their idiocy
you wouldn’t believe me if I said this was a slip
my head the forest fire the drought to come
you the flood I foolishly crave
Written: May 2020. Explanation: A poem written in my own time. Feedback welcome as always. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.