You, turning, burning in the blonde sun,
eyes alight pushing out a gentle radiation
like the pale yellow landscape.

Outstretched in shade, arm across your face,
the letter from him smouldering in your hand.

Stepping later into the evening slowly slipping away
like the feeling in a post-coital cigarette, smoke
drifting into nothing, memory’s reawakened.

In the belly of darkness you dream a slice of glass
cutting the soft walls, you dream of reaching out
to touch him to stop the frostbite creeping up your fingers.

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