2. Lie of the land

I waited so long for you to return

From the European journey

All of us make when younger, that

I held you too briefly, burnt you

So brightly

And adjourned, our train-wreck beauty

Yet I am never good enough with words;

This possession churns in

The deep-black waters we formed

When I held you in the cusp of my hand

With this decision as the wergild to pay

For past months, and – dare I say?

Future ones

The problem is always in the lie of the land