Sniffing

Sniffing (8th Dec 2008, 8.28pm)

Today was nostalgia;
I tripped down memory lane,
smashed my face on the tarmac,
busted my knee up. Pain.

I lurked by the perfume shelves
in Boots, clutching my new
haircut by the roots, tearing
at my gloves with searing teeth
until the wool started to
bleed, fending off the attentions
of the helpful assistant -

No, I’m not buying anything,
I’m just sniffing,
stealing spray after spray
of the cologne I bought you
for every birthday,
I’m just snivelling again,
calling my excuses
Rain, A Cold, My Dog Died
Yesterday, and

closing my eyes against
the fluorescent lights,
there you were in my mind,
a glimpse from behind,
as you walked away…

What did you say?
I’ll have three bottles.

I’m still trying to pay.