Unrest

You leave things in strange places

whenever you visit.

A knife with the spoons,

socks in the fridge,

your voice in my heart.

We said our goodbyes,

you left me a mess,

and now is the time

to clean...

unless?

Cymraeg Comeback

 

We stayed in twos when the cloud caved in. It shouted over walls, crept in the shadows and down to the water where the hiding began.

We dined on the scraps of our past selves, poached them in their oils, seasoned them with the seas.

We ate our words and swallowed our pride until we ran out of space to store our dreams.

We left it all in the dark of night.

And the cloud is what was left.