Strawberry Milkshake

Strawberry Milkshake

I sit in a dining room chair
and waste an hour talking to you
via MSN.
We discuss news, politics, weather, the meaning of life
but nothing which actually matters
or which either of us will remember in ten minutes.
Sipping milkshake out of a mug, pink moustache
I make jokes. You frown, I feel it-
Far too mature for any of that. I scoff-
A few months ago you’d have laughed,
Chased my remarks with cyber-kisses.
The chat goes nowhere. I start an essay
while I wait
for something to flash up on the screen
count the strained pauses.
Minutes two, three, five.
Finally your curt goodbye
reminds me that
“Obviously, evidently, without doubt
I am over you.”
“Bye, then.” I finish my shake
Swill it round my mouth. Swallow. Warm, uninspiring saccharin.
Like milkshake, you start off sweet,
Strawberry summer kisses-
Let me ride out the sudden high
And then-
Plummet
With empty hands
And a chill inside.