You were the calm, smart one beside a powerhouse man
Working effectively, efficiently and seemingly happily
Until it bust apart and I let you store your life in my attic
And you went home, to a small place, to remember the bits you grew from
And I was impressed that you threw into the air a life that from the outside seemed so so good
But it was not and you listened and left
And I visited your 1960s architectural haven
And got crushed with you in a reggae club changing room
Hiding in a car while your friend tagged graffitti in a country where that crime is almost worth a hanging
I gave you a book.
Blue cover. Colombia.
And we read it by the modern fireplace. Crackling.
And we knew we would go. We promised.
And we went. Big blue skies and empty islands and hiding our age from 22 year olds boys.
And milkshakes in the market and coconut rice and slow dancing with soldiers
And a racing boat on choppy seas and swinging hammocks where you found fun and I realised my own pain that would take me another year to creep out of
With you, always there, a green light to chat to when I needed
With the same high hopes and not letting go of what we deserve
Your sun and horse print on my wall in Portugal.
Blu tacked to my tippee wall
To make me strong, my BFF