Loving You
Carney James

Is not as liberating as travelling thirteen whimsical days
From Brindisi to Milan with nothing but twenty three
American dollars to an ever changing name

Nor is it more dream-like than drifting along the Kashmir Valley
Where the sight of a cold AK-47 is as rare
As the nitrogen in the air that you and I breathe

And to be the one laid here beside you in the pale moonlight
Is no great compliment either
Your cruel criticisms fall on me like hollow conversation
Like those gentle petals falling on your windowsill

Yesterday’s raindrops
Tap, tap, tap on your window
Drawing colour blind rainbows
Drowning your tulip

Those are my flooding tears failing in the rain

Perhaps my time would be better spent reading
A novel in a language entirely foreign to me
Than sleeping here beside you

It has always fascinated me
How the fields of your hair part in three different ways
And shine red under the lights of my eyes, and my eyes alone
And how we’re always alone, even in company

Tomorrow I will read a novel
In a language entirely foreign to me
And every word will remind me of you