The Last Time

We slept on Primrose Hill
woke with grass and daisies
printed on our cheeks.

We woke in the centre of standing stones
slept in all those sacred spaces
our love balled like a fist.

We slept in each other’s mouths
woke pregnant with joy
for the day ahead.

We woke in a clockwork universe
wound it laughing
with the keys we gave each other.

Walking by a river on a Friday night
we finally lost our way
and you walked back the way we had come
while I walked on.