hold me in bed
when you wrap your arm around me
and tell me –
how much you love me

no sadness,
no outright joy
discombobulated,
clearly has a clever ploy

our engine is bias and prejudice
it drives us all
intentions often they can be good
but bias drives us

equality for some will have to wait
as if,
it’s about waiting for a turn
stuck at the turnstiles

ties of the past,
hung glibly –
from the top of a –
former telecommunications mast

bottles containing love and acceptance
drunk with indifference
living in a world –
of poor weather interspersed by nonsense

i miss you –
and i know that we add each other –
to our lists of –
what ifs and maybes