New Year

A poem about losing love.

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1. New Year

The sky pools out like spilled wine,

visible only through the tangle of twigs

looming from the trees above.

Your hand snags mine,

cold through my glove.

 

Last year, on Cleeves hill,

you zipped us both inside your coat.

We watched the sky light up,

colours scattered like sugar strands

beneath the pale moon.

 

I thought I was in love.

 

We’ve missed the fireworks this year.

It doesn’t matter.

Our world’s already exploding around our ears. 

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