Jolly good.

Jolly good.

Bright red nail polish

Gently holding tiny feet

Painting dainty toes

Massaging moisturising cream

Into smooth hairless calves

The mystique of an inner thigh

Gently washing her hair

Even trusted with a hairbrush

I was always wary

Of the drier burning her head

It was impossible to

Stand so close

Without kissing her head

Or behind the ear

Simple intimacies easily invoked

Provoking satisfaction

Before the ache of absence

Pushes out the memory

Only for it to return

Unbidden, an appeasement

To the pain of losing

Slight and brief

Though these thoughts may be

They carry significance

As everyday pleasures

Are what sustain us

Just as the capacity

To move forward, or not

Can carry with it

The power to define us

If we really want it to.