Death comes too soon, we’re more than halfway there.
How come I’ve spent an hour on this text?
And whence these teenage thoughts? And what comes next?
I’ve yet to see you naked, but I’m sure
that gravity has had its way with you.
And I am overweight and varicose.
But it could work: a setting not too bright,
our glasses off. I see your inner light,
and love transcends all things – or can come close.
And close beats halfway there. And close would do.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Matt
be pleased to hear them.