My head is a caravan parked across your stomach

and your knuckles are summer rain
hitting against the roof.
I’ve never taught you how to punch,
it’s as natural as skin.
There will come a time
when you ask me questions
about where I go on a Monday night
and I will say
Sometimes we are our own storm
and a stranger’s ears can be umbrellas

and you will probably ask for a Cheestring.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s