**I'm going to put my aspiring word-smith heart on my sleeve and post something here I wrote for Haloumi. I know amateur poetry can be cringe-worthy, if you find this so, please be kind!**
Halloumi’s playing knock-knock jokes with me again. Knock knock – Who’s there? Haloumi!
It is feeling summery – even more so that last month. I’m on the train, curving my way up to Newcastle. Late for the colloquium I was planning on attending, but will get there nonetheless. And I find myself writing words for Haloumi in the margins of a paper I’m reading:
I will greet you with hands smelling of oranges.
I will kiss your mouth in your sleep.
I will let you surprise me
Over and over again.
I will curse that my hands can’t bat away all the things that will hurt you.
I will remember– despite the shock – that no matter how many times I have dreamt you
You are your very own dream
From your very own flickering head.
I will breathe you in and mingle you with my familiar cells.
I will breathe you out and let you mingle amongst the hard and soft particles of the air.
I will bring you home,
And I will open the door.
And as much as I delight
In the still unreal thought
of seeing the light bounce from your face onto mine
I will not hurry you
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