for Mira and Claudia


We do not know what will happen in our lives –
the sweet birdsong of regret,
the slow pace of longing,
the ephemeral wind

In Coles, I remember the very aisle where I played those silly games,
dropping fat rolls of dog-meat in the trolley –
we were so in love then, both with each other
and the tumescent lump in your belly

In the Babies Change Room, nothing has changed –
the queasy smell,
the taut, pthalo plastic of the bench.
entrails of time

The Michels Coffee Bar has gone, unmissed,
my gratitude remains,
indelibly graffited in my blood –
only a wondrous love could have created such a wondrous being