I thought I would remember,

I thought I would remember,

It has happened before.

Poems written in the air

Whilst out walking

Whole verses

Slipping and sliding

In and out

Struggling to hold them

Trying to keep the flesh

On their bones.

I remember watching her

Put flesh on her bones

In front of the mirror

Brushing her hair

Shading the skin above her eyes

To bring out the green

Legs stretched out

Under the dressing table

Watching her back arch

The curve of it

I could slalom all the way down

From top to bottom.

Even on my worst days

Drinking with the boys

From the buildings

After a Saturday working overtime

Painting a ceiling

Not the Sistine

But worth time and a half

We drank cheap wine

Straight from the bottle

I fell asleep later in the pub

Head down on the table

Holding a pint.

Staggering home

To have a bath

Where I fell asleep

Almost drowning.

Trotting out to a party

At a mate's house

For his birthday

It was the wrong night

So I went to the pub

Narrowly avoiding

An intimate relationship

With a barmaid.

She was a fangirl

Followed me to gigs

I can see her now

The flesh on her bones

She was alive

In a distant half-remembered way.

Not like her

My heart breaker

I can’t forget her

But I did forget the poem

Unless this was it

And it came out wrong

All inside out

Upside down

Covered in freckles.

Even on my worst days

I should do better than this.