Invitation

One afternoon in an art gallery.
Two days at your Gran’s by the sea.
Tea and cake in the expensive café
at the top of the department store.
Half an hour running across London
to catch a movie featuring a man
whose face turns blue.
A couple of hours complaining about
your lack of a love life and wishing
you lived in a period drama.
A whole day making mango chutney
and lemon curd.
Endless chats on the doorstep,
on the turn of the stairs,
over the phone,
across a café table,
the kitchen table.
A painful break-up.
A wrist sprained by falling downstairs.
Mugs full of muesli, and
socks, drying on the radiator.