The smell of wood smoke and metal


 
Some of the happiest times of my life
 
have been spent
 
with you,
 
under the stars, in your garden.
 
I can still smell flowers on a summer night
 
and the brush of cats on legs;
 
sitting silence upon a bench
 
that has seen better days
 
…different days.
 
Animal print gowns and ponytails, 
 
the smell of cigarettes,
 
whilst looking at slippers,
 
and the sky
 
beyond the trees.
 
The lights from Bare lane
 
shining beyond the houses in front,
 
reminding of a world outside,
 
but the inside world is better,
 
far better,
 
and quieter too.
 
The smell of wood smoke and metal,
 
as the beast burns at shins and we like…
 
even love…
 
each others
 
company.
 
What happened to this…
 
why is there such a struggle to say
 
what i need to say…
 
which is only kind things,
 
which have become confused in my mind…
 
and seem to you to be based in attack
 
and trickery,
 
but are not in any way
 
what you imagine…
 
I only wish to, once again,
 
burn wood with you
 
and smell the summer,
 
feeling safe, 
 
with you and the
 
animals.
 
I feel so sad…and wanted
 
only to
 
tell you
 
what was
 
in my heart
 
tonight.
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One Response to “The smell of wood smoke and metal”

  1. ….so raw and so desperately sad. x

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