On monday

There is a list with everything I know on it.
I just can't work out what order it's in.
Priorities play dosey-do. We all change partners again.

The week explodes over my diary. It goes here and here and

here.

I cherish small graces; a sip of tea, a ciggerette.
Try to forget
you are leaving again.

If I stared into that vortex my heart would start shrieking.
We choose politeness
instead.