Hertford

I found an envelope in my pocket
I don't remember what it said
It came from someone who loved me
But wasn't sure, didn't know.
Sure that she loved me
Didn't know the rules.
There was a night I plead with you
A night we were so far apart
A night I didn't know the rules
A night I thought we couldn't see through together
Today is different
Today I know
Today there are no rules
Just me and you.

Village Pump, Monday Morning, July 2012

I don't remember waking.
I remember my nose pressed against the back of your neck.
I remember your skin felt so soft.
I had a flash of Sunday morning, a Sunday morning that could be.
I smiled.
"What are you thinking?" you said.
I don't know if you know what I was thinking but I blurted out.
About how I imagined us fighting over the Guardian and Times.
Eating croissants. Drinking tea.
That wasn't what I was thinking with your neck pressed against my nose. 
My lips brushing the top of your back. 
Your skin so soft.
That wasn't what I was thinking.