In August

In August ache was an aged ally

bleeding through eyes, nose and mouth

as watery wisp or crimson canary.

In August you visited friends

while I confided in strangers

so senseless.

In August you were wearing wings

while catching a flight

or sailing on escalators

while I leaned listlessly on lifts

and took the bus.

In August we dressed

in a nine to five folly

to repress solitude's spinster act.

In August we e-mailed

and you called daily

telepathy was the transition

in our voices so vulnerable

In August defiance doomed to an early death

marvelled at how a continent

and a six hour flight would never let us meet

first and last awaited.