Love is like an allotment

Love is like an allotment

Neglected
brambles uncoil
like barbed wire
chokes the grass
buds turn to clots
scratches criss-cross
our thin wrists
fingerprints grouted
teeth stained
with each other’s blood

tended
it can feed your family
a place to sip tea
watching the sun
slip from the sky
while woodsmoke
wraps our wrists
with a ribbon
weaves itself
into our clothes

both
in a shadowed corner
a cornflower blazes blue
a pilot light

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