1113

do your roots love her
as much as they love you
do your roots caress
you as much
as they love her
as much as they do
won’t they do

splinter and ache
a bleached boat on the shore
no black or grey
or white
just the sound of water
watching the wood splinter

pointless waste
little too late
to make amends

a little drunk and sick
at the airport
poetry
the only place
where we fly to Ireland together