Open Return

We chose a train to the coast
and took pictures for prosperity.

Your dimples danced
for the conductor,
hid stiff behind the sliding door.
Fell silent,
afraid the boy with the duck egg eyes
would spill the beans.

When we arrived
you borrowed matching Dalmatians
from berry-faced holiday makers.
Renamed them David and Dean,
slipped them Wotsits
when no-one was looking.

I sought refuge
in a lemon boat.
waved oars like wings
on a flightless bird
refusing to accept
its lot.

We hid behind
bus shelters
and stole secrets.
You asked time to stop,
dropped dimples when
I wanted to grow old.

Our return punctuated
with a pop.

The camera split like a seed.