Metres of Threatening Space

My life is one big absence, John.

Like the neighbours went home and I’m still

playing hide-and-seek,

looking in the oven and under the sofa for

Mary’s blue dress.  

Drawn out seconds of searching.

And my heart still beats in two places

for you, John.

Our bed is only metres of

threatening space. You are not here

to warm my hands, my thighs, my insides.

I am blind in darkness,

my hands are outstretched before me.

I am looking for you –

but I keep slicing

through this damp nothingness.


I am afraid that my life will always feel

like non-living without you.