Thursday, 2 August 2012


The inflatable flower
that you won for me
the night we met

still sits on the floor in the bedroom
filled with air from your lungs

How can that thin red plastic
hold you even now
eight years on

and six months since
your breath ran out

Today I cracked
and finally pried
the stopper open

I sucked you up
and breathed for the both of us

Afterwards, the flower lay
crippled on the floor
and I wished I'd waited
another day, another month
another year.