untitled (march 2020 #2)

I slipped underneath
Where your foot touched the rock
And was imprinted on the stone.

Slow down the bird
In its Sussex flurry
To rooftops coldly dawning.

I see the future
In the wick of a candle
And the arm of a sofa,

In the shrug of a meal
And the want of touch.

I see the future with
Eyes like taps:
Turning on the television.

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