REFRESHER

By Ewen Glass

Bending at the waist, chaste,

chased around a playground,

performing in the round

by lighter-burned see-saw or

a carpark near her house. A kiss

tastes like Refreshers, I say.

Breath and time pivot sour,

a tumour in the decades.

Boiled. Sticky.

I’d like to say it still.

#darkpoetsclub #SSDI