I will use lists as my defence,
each item a stone in the barricade
keeping you in your place.
The easiest comes first –
capital cities, Shakespeare’s heroines,
names beginning with E.
You hover over me
waiting until I relax or forget,
fingers drumming on my chest.
I’m running out of categories:
dog breeds, prime ministers,
lovers who left me, lovers I left,
authors with unusual names,
English counties, types of cheese.
Nothing helps.
You’re waiting for me
in the contents of rock pools,
red hair mingling with anemone’s tendrils.
heavenfaced 