7 of 9

Dear SS,

As Alisha's Attic once uttered "I wish I were you. I wish I could wear you shoes. I wish I could think from your brain". Or perhaps I could just enjoy a little transient hive mentality. Where I'm assimilated by the Borg that is you. Plus looking like 7 of 9 wouldn't go amiss.

I'm very happy with me but my goodness, to have your charisma and situational mutability.  I only fit into certain social spaces, some of the time. Whereas you stride through them all with aplomb. And you do it with your own unique sense of style. It's quite something to stand out and simultaneously fit in.

If I didn't fancy you like crazy, I'd still admire you tremendously. As it is, I enjoy both with equal measure. I suppose that's why I fell in love with you.

Yours,


The RGF xxxxx

Entwined

I miss you SS.  The picture you sent last night, where you were smiling the smile that begins in your soul and continues, ad infinitum, did nothing to quell my feelings. Right now, there's a band playing nearby.  I can hear them from my sofa.  But if I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that I'm at Leeds Festival with you.  Feeling the echoes of music that surround festivals, which become louder as you walk towards the bands and never completely fade, until the main stages have rested for the night.    

I wish that I was there with you.  That somehow I had sufficient childcare and the relevant ticket.  Rather than the ticket of my imagination that delivers me to the magical space you are in - with musical vibes, canvas overhead and our bodies entwined. 

xxxxx

Butterfly kisses

Today we had butterfly kisses. Too gentle and fleeting for passion. Yet perfect.  When we kiss like this, I feel the love flutter between our lips and wonder if my love is starting to become your love too.

🦋

This love

It has its own direction now
If before I mastered the fringes
Now I'm hapless sail
In the winds of your majesty

Why is it my fragments
That must entice you
Mere echos of interest
But I cannot dilute nature

Must I quiet the passion
As this will not map your path
Just quell the moment
Each meeting transitory

Can the wildness be anchored
Each ache somehow transmuted
So it is not asymmetric
But ongoing in its journey


Xxxxxx

Gaps

The gaps between our time have widened somehow. Though not in actual time. My response to them has changed. There is a greater sense of gapedness. I'm practically measuring time by you. The time apart is less. The time with is more. In short I miss you much. Our next liaison may be shorter than usual. Thus I will embrace every single second of it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx 💖

Dandelion clock

A dandelion clock floats past me. I watch it gently fade away into spaces outside my field of vision. As a child, I called dandelion clocks fairies and spoke wishes into their feathery seeds. Once I couldn't see them, I believed they had returned to Fairy Land to grant my wish. Though thoughts of wonder have given way to logic. I still believe in magic. I feel the evidence every time you look at me. And I suppose if I made a wish, it'd be for you. 

💖💖💖

Flying V for peace ✌️

Oh war memorial man of Alsager, how many times I've walked past you and noted your striking resemblance to a rock guitarist. The way you hold your rifle. Fingers poised for a spellbinding solo, rather than warfare. Said rifle resembling the flying V, if you squint a bit and drink a lot.

I have so many vague memories of shouting ‘Angus’ at your stoney visage because in the dark of night, through misty eyes, you are much like Angus Young from AC-DC. 

Now that The Arms public house has gone. An empty space stands where once there was a monument to raucous behaviour. I don't suppose I'll drunkenly rock salute your stoney self anytime soon.

And yes I know what the real statue represents. A fallen hero or rather a testament to the many who fell because some idiot thought war would be a good idea. Thus there is much sadness in my ridiculous humour.

I don't suppose many politicians would agree but make music, not war.

Peace ✌️ 

Xxx

In a song

Let hands slow to Venus time
Retract from world beyond
An imprint of loves energy
As days pass in a song

xxx

Collaboration

What is better than being inspired to write poetry? Inspiring beautiful poetry in the man who inspires me. We are both muse and creator. I'm greatly enjoying this collaboration. There are times when I feel unsettled. This is the fear of being hurt presenting itself. Yet, when I'm operating through instinct, I feel brave and joyous.

Difference

What a difference two months makes. On the 1st June, I was writing poetry about a ghost. Now on the 1st August, I'm writing it about a man who's presence is active.

At the beginning of June I was wrapping blue flowers around a broken clock. Hoping that the ghost would remember. I no longer hope for this.

On this first day of August, I love someone new. It perhaps apt that Goldfrapp's Utopia plays my wait for him to arrive at my house. Just over a week ago, he asked me what I wanted to do, I said "just be here". There wasn't anything that could have improved it. We were enough.

Xx

Easier

Sometimes it's easier when you know that love is entirely unrequited.  Of course it's terribly sad but it's still easier than I uncertainty. That sense of being too far ahead in feelings and not knowing how to backtrack through your emotions. Love doesn't come with a remote. You cannot pause, rewind, stop and you can't fast forward. I'd rewind if I could so that you might catch up. Or maybe I'd pause my feelings so I could enjoy you, us, without my heart clouding the experience. Every time I see you I feel more.  Though you tell me it's the same for you, we know that I'm a number of steps in front. You, so incredibly balanced in myriad ways. This, and others, makes you one of the best people I've met. I wonder if our feelings will ever find balance. Will you start to feel much the same way I do or never, ever catch up........

Xx