Seasonal Fling

Naoise Dolan

March 5, 2018 1 min read

A poem on the seasonality of lust by writer Naoise Dolan

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Seasonal Fling
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You warned me very fairly that it was to be

a fling, that you’d be off before the cherry

blossoms had opened and that you’d left

a large chunk of your heart in another country

anyway. It didn’t stop me falling for you, but

I feel I did it with a restraint I would not have

otherwise exercised. I never took your arm in

public and I turned away when I wanted to

smile, as though discretely spitting out gum.

 

You said I’d come at the wrong time, that it

wasn’t me but the breeze that brought me in.

You probably tell them all that, but I’ll never

have to meet them and so can find it special.

Really your compliments are nothing if not

ecologically sound. They’ve rumbled against

a thousand eardrums. You’ll recycle them

until they degrade quite naturally.

 

Read These Next:

When a flower doesn’t bloom

The end of the year

A Better Daughter

 


 

Naoise Dolan is a writer and poet.

@naoisedo

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