Seasonal Fling | Naoise Dolan
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.
Naoise Dolan is a writer and poet.