Identity Crises

Somehow we ended up either side
Of the fireplace, ablaze with dried flowers.
You chose to sit in the ingle-nook
To smoke Silkcut, examining your nails
For cracks or chips, whatever.

I chewed a matchstick and joked
About the gap between my teeth
Before I realized it was my dad who,
As a boy, chewed matchsticks.
Jamming them between his two front teeth.

Wood burning my gums I played it cool,
Considered growing a moustache while you
Rolled your eyes wondering, I expect,
Why I was stroking my upper lip with intent.
When I asked if you liked Tom Selick, Burt Reynolds,

You made your excuses you had to leave,
I felt like a child tugging at your sleave
For sweets, for love. You must believe
The cheese straws were a last resort. If I'd remembered
Your name -was it Carol, Karen, Linda or Jane-

I would never have stuck two up my nose
And done my Tommy Cooper and my Bruce Forsythe pose.
You left me examining my nails for cracks,
for chips, feeling like that time I was seven
My trouser pockets heavy with spiders, bombers,
Huge ball bearings no one wanted to swap or buy.