Away.

When the seagulls sing.

I didn't know
where you came from
I didn't care
where you had been
no questions
no answers
imagined to be real
interpretations of the past
permitting us to feel

You accosted my life
You deconstructed my mind
You rearranged my heart

The first noticeable change of a spring day
an unheralded rush of light and warmth
throwing open windows and doors
expelling the chill from the air

Filling the emptiness with the joy of living
breaking the silence with the sound of laughter
sharing the magical gift of unconscious forgetfulness.

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But now memories amount to one
The fact that you are gone

Your beautiful body
away from me
Your beautiful body
away from me
Your beautiful body
away from me

It was like when the seagulls sing
it didn't mean a thing
like when the seagulls sing
it didn't mean a thing
when the seagulls sing
it doesn't mean a thing.

When I wrote this poem I was living in a second floor flat in Paisley.
After the last line I was sitting looking at it and I heard this squawking sound.
I looked out of the living room window, three seagulls were flying in a circle and squawking outside the window.