Your Presence

We talked for hours in your domain,

Into the early hours of the morning.

We talked of serious things;

Of marriage.

Of death.

Of God.

Of life.

And I watched your lips moving

As they spoke with passion

And I burned with an urging desire to kiss them.

You asked me who my interest was

And I blushed and avoided answering straight,

Muttering something incomprehensible even to myself.

Would you have minded if I had kissed you?

If I had pressed my lips against your own?

You said you’d get it out of Holly

And gave that beautiful mischievous grin,

Showing a row of imperfect teeth.

Do you not know?

It’s you! It’s you!

You asked me if I would say anything to her

And I knew,

In that moment,

That we would never be united,

Neither in marriage nor,

Consequently,

In flesh.

I would never be happy.

We would never have the brood of children of which I dreamed.

We would never sit on Scarborough pier eating fish and chips.

You would never be my Doris.