Under the sun so distant people do not believe it exists
With a face pale like morning sickness and
Invisible frozen veins of purple blue
we’ve been thrown together into perfect distance.
Somewhere in England, lovers walk side by side.
But not us. We are two dots equally far from happiness.
You used complain of the cold weather in March
and I said that March was two thirds winter.
After all, they do not call them snow drops for nothing.
You have gone darker. I saw your pictures on Instagram.
I didn’t think you’d ever put colour on your hair.
But it wasn’t you, I guess.
Your wife must have painted your hair.
That was a few weeks ago cause today you’re ashen.
We have done many Marches together
some in the car and some on foot.
The motorway splits the Sandwell Valley in half
I am 15 years older and I annoy you. We’re no longer lovers.
The trees are still bare, there are the cows and horses and you and I –
we’re breaking the Covid rules and for what – this measly walk?
‘Look at the sunset’, the couple behind us says…
Beyond the field and few crab apple trees, the orange line has revealed itself
like lava trapped in marble
like the letter I have never sent,
a love pill buried in time.