L. B. Mek

of Sweetness

 

‘Inflation Precipice’, fearmongering headlines. 

‘Death, be not proud’, poetry.

‘Love island TV’, pixelated zoo’s

‘COVID here to stay’, reality.

‘Zhengzhou & New York flooding’, nature’s frustrations

 

but, 

my ultra-HD blinkered VPN

can only identify: clear skies - obstinately

in each, bleak horizon

they’re trying to bludgeon us with.

 

Divisive warmongering, polarising politics 

as all-consuming lead story, tannoy vomit 

yet, all me and you care about

are scrolling footnotes

of tomorrow’s, weather forecasts.

 

‘No rain!’ We text – in sync

let’s head to that spot, we talked about

we’ll break out, to break-in

those new matching t-shirts, we dyed ourselves

last weekend;

 

excitement, in every notification 

‘no you, hang-up’

as our daily nightcaps 

grinning wide, at 6am

like, it’s a mandatory requirement. 

 

Sweetness of life, in each ‘Woosah’

of attraction’s meditative, tingly skin  

and these are just, preview highlights 

before

we’re back, at each other’s side.

 

I see you, waiting

by your doorstep 

 

smiling, I park

far too close to the kerb, and wave 

even before you close the car door, we hug

because, we’ve

got our priorities: right;

 

I let my eyes, serenade you

with a million love poems

‘stop it’, you blush: ‘never!’ I promise. 

 

We begin

as passing sirens, accompany 

blaring obscenely, alarmingly 

but

we still hear every syllable, shared

in our engrossing conversation

about, work stresses and lunch breaks;

 

you’re laughing

all-teeth brimming

hair - like personality, let-loose

flowing free

we’re vibing, gliding

with no need for music’s

mood setting.

 

Later, as I hold you tight

you ask about: Time

I whisper a lover’s, reply

 

one more minute, just

one more blink

one more, synchronised 

heartbeat…

 

Let’s cherish - us

my Truth, my Escape, my Love

in these moments of sweetness; 

no words - just lips

and nourishing warmth, seeping deep

blossoming love

 

ever-Sweet!

 

 

© L. B. Mek

August 2021