Rachael Lucas, a friend of mine (who is actually pretty bloody famous and successful), author of ‘Sealed With a Kiss’, challenged me to write a poem in half an hour or less, based on the giddiness of a thing I MIGHT HAVE STARTED (ssh) with someone I MIGHT REALLY LIKE. So, I tried it, it’s not very good, but it’s called Some People Live in Strange Ways.
We’re not waiting for morning. Some people live
In strange ways, like us, and we agree on terms.
Our laughter is suspended in the warm, thick air
Of Summer, as if touchable; visible and light
Trapped brightly and stuck, leaving marks, bruises
Made real for the evening. We hear my housemate
Listening to Radio 4, gently stirs us though not enough
To want to wake. We’ve engaged, become, discussed
And touched. Tenderness can be a violent act, as you’ll
Learn, when we re-entangle, you belong to me
Tonight, and only me. A waistcoat demands me.
It’s getting light. Some people live in strange ways
Like us. It’s warm again, let’s make the most of the
Uncomfortable heat; all the city drops into a deep fog,
Like we’re the only ones awake and suspended in
The warm, thick air of Summer. Night came in like
The sound of an orchestra tuning to A; in spikes
And dips. Some people live in strange ways, like
Us, and we agree on terms. Tonight, suspended
In the warm, thick air of Summer.