a poem from A WINTER WITH A MONIKER

We watched the snow streaming

and hugged, for warmth

We never did see spring or summer –

marshmallow turned to cotton-wool;

it made your skin crawl away from me,

that adolescent lint chafed me sore

’til there were only rice grains between us;

you said I hid behind sausages and chips

(it was easy, being made so small)

I’d been processed, a pea, that’s all

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