I would hold you in my paws,
And keep us warm in all the rain.
Dig holes for us to sleep in,
So we’d never be apart again.
I would find us lots of honey,
So life would always be sweet,
And lick and groom all my furs,
To impress everyone we meet.

I would roll myself in autumn leaves,
And give you the best hugs of your life.
I would sharpen my teeth on our enemies,
And grow nails, or claws, or knives.
I would sniff out all the insects,
That hurt us with their bites.
And sleep for all the eternity,
Otherwise known as lonely nights.

And if I were to catch you,
Alone with another bear.
I would slash and rip you open,
And crawl in to cry in the tear.

standing is a memory lost between sheets
Breaths linen pressed
Families repressed
Strangers
Just wanting to be held

Where are all our wooden boxes?
Their bronze gilded edges
and old price sticker glue.

We worried them away from charity shops,
haggled over foreign coins in bazaars.
They travelled by the heat of our legs
cradled, but chipped from the bumps in the tar.

Like Russian dolls from different cultures,
dysfunctional birds of a feather
storing together
Our lives segmented then closed in the dark.

Wraps of late nights and later mornings
Odd earrings, shells, letters and old keys
the leftovers of utmost importance
Finger sized buoys steady through our coastal breeze.

Do they still nestle in your corners?
Wearing blankets of somebody else's skin.

Are they still filled with our faded receipts now?
Or hollow from within.

Golden brown or yellow livered
a field of blows await
Spring to be delivered
as waters turn from
snow to dew
Your yellow crown peeks and pushes through
over summer's flowers bloomed too soon
underneath Your shadow wilt and swoon
as long as roots can drink their fill
remain reflecting in Your windowsill
Echoing I'm your Daffodil