Northern Rain Mask
(for and after Gerard Rudolf)
Remember the first time I laid eyes on you?
Another cold afternoon.
You turning in widening circles
in that train station in
Were you wearing black
for a funeral?
Were my first words to you about weather?
Something mundane at least.
Did you say, You are very tall?
Did I reply, I lie about my height.
Did I fall in love with you there and then?
In all our brutal years together
we left each other nailed to walls;
gutted in so many houses,
disembowelled by sex.
I am sorry, for my part at least.
Your cruelty is your business.
We made so much rain between us,
with not so much as a tribal mask.
I am drinking latte in the place
where we first made plans
near your ex boyfriend’s flat.
Rain runs down the window.,
I am reading, ‘Orphaned Latitudes’.