FMS Pictures & Poetry

Your window fixed ajar
Welcomed in the coastal climate;
Crammed your room with the chill
Of freezing December mornings,
Only eased by a mug of Himlagott
And your calm, warming smile
As you made me “feel the bees�
Protruding from my mug.

Our show couldn’t have been
Less convincing –
I would have beaten you
To the ground with my fists
If that’s what you wanted.
Even the nursing staff
Could see that truth,
As we sat nervously in casualty.

And it was memories like these
That stole our farewell –
Such a hard word to say;
Prevented more silent tears,
More heart-wrenching moments
Of that unique solidarity
Crumpled together in linen,
Sharing home truths.

Like the collapse of
That firm, sugary layer
Of those infamous Turkisk Peppar –
Filling mouth with bitterness –
That damn word
Just had to come out
Once we’d travelled South from
Our private goodbyes.

They would have been so disappointed
Had they known what really went on
In that massive hotel room –
Just a hint of the pain
That came quickly upon us
As we battled ourselves,
Wondering if things might have been
Different some day.

And besides,
An explanation isn’t necessary –
You were always so good
At translating our common experiences
Into rational phrases
Conveniently side-stepping the reasons
I’m still unable to hear ‘You’re Gorgeous’
Without thinking of you.