Longing
A poem about longing at work
If I could distil his spirit in a word, I would
Form this reference or mantra to repeat
As I manifest him in my bedroom
Knowing I must be content with only the dream
We work together and I’m trying not to breach
The professional lines that keep us in check
Though the meeting of minds and the camaraderie
Is intoxicating
For everything we have in common
We have so many contrasts
He doesn’t realise the extent of my feminism
Or the deep-seated reasons I fled the Church
He’s a mass-goer, with a wholesome lifestyle
I’m a party animal that can’t get enough
Are these tribal distinctions or warning signs?
We’ll never know if my head maintains control
If wanton hormones had their way
It would be a totally different story
Ireland, Britain, Nigeria
The lands that hold sway
Cross-cultural pollinations,
Imagining interesting conversations
With people who ever one resembles
