that advert you hate
but watch till the end
then get annoyed-at
all over again
I pause - rewind, till the commercial just before
acting nonchalant
as you return and press play
your eyes, glued to that dreadful advert
mine, immersed in your scowling smile:
my most treasured secret,
you hate to cook but feeding people is your passion
cutting corners - like it’s a hobby
I drop by your battlefield kitchen
just to watch you squirm - fidget and stash
your latest - supposed shortcut
your back, pushing against that accomplice drawer
I can’t help but tease - leaning closer
to return your blockading bear hug
as tight as I can:
my only addiction in life,
you hurt, eyelid rainfalls from watching a romcom
but refuse to surrender your vulnerability’s - easily
scampering away, you run that tap water
as loud: as a waterfall blanket
and with each nuance of yourself you gift me, I tumble
with an avalanche’s certainty, squeezing my identity
to align within your ideal partner’s ski-skates, despairingly
until you notice me – hopefully, and I’m freed - permanently
from this shadowed existence, upon friendship’s Arctic isles
a reality so far from ideal: daydreaming, whilst by your side
© L. B. Mek
June 2019