Sylvie Hill

Naturally.

How could I ever be cross with you –
you made sure I got home OK
you let me lose control in the end.
Naturally, it was your turn
come: morning.

I demonized you to some mates –
tell yours I was a bad lay
that I was blackout central dangerbay.
Naturally, I love incredibly
came: mourning.

My little death comes from –
not coming, which saved me
levitating, from which I’d have fallen too hard.
Naturally, I had you 36,000 feet in the sky, though
gone: leaving.

What would we ever talk about now –
that you found me annoying
that I found you annoying
that we found we had a pretty good time, considering?
Naturally, it is too intense for me
continue: soaring.

disappearing: sorry.

dickhead: sorting

© Sylvie Hill 2013

dixon / “Beeline” / 100x40cm / spray paint and synthetic enamel on canvas / 2010