put that in aspic

put it in amber

as the long gold

of a winter afternoon

draws on my heart

and the cravings start

to preserve that almost-there

feeling, like where

you dragged your lips

down my shoulder

or the nostalgic

sense of a new

room

in a rented flat

as sun slants

across clean paintwork

dust-motes dance

I would

tear apart

shred the world

just to

keep this

butterfly-bright moment

pinned

to my taskbar

like yearning, like wanting, like chance

but the light just

slips

through my hands

 

Photo by Jack B on Unsplash