Wednesday, 13 March 2013

91 - You Dressed Me

In the morning you dressed me
So I raised my arms and imitated a child
You were in your birthday suit

There’s only so close you can get
Your room is an Eden beloved for its impurity
I linger before leaving to breathe beside you

Someone mentioned that Google Documents is to be retired at the beginning of July. This reminded me that I used to use it all the time, when I needed to scribble something down, or when I was doing a job for someone. Looking back through old documents on there for the first time in ages, I found dozens of pieces of writing that I'd forgotten about, such as the one above, a scrap of poetry that I wrote after leaving my then girlfriend's house on a happy morning.