Affection

I love the warmth of genuine affection
affection which needs no prompting
that unfurls
uncurls
in the soft hues of this late Christmas night

This night, ribboned with tales of childhood love
we're tied together,
my mother and I
ignited by excited needy tongues
I scatter blue veined talk into the ear of my dear one

and into mine, dropped fragment by fragment,
fractured sentences
love of all sorts being the subject

Words are many though, shot out like bullets
their aim, the heart

And riddled like spent lovers we fall on bloodless Christmas cushions
dreaming of the men we love...


Angela x