I want you to help me
but you refuse
lying there sharply accusative and pointing towards the window
you would rather be anywhere but here
‘But I have paper,’ I say
I show you a neat pile of A4
playing on the fact that you are distantly related
but you are dreaming of a time
when you stood in the forest
with the wind in your leaves
listening to the sap rising
I say:
‘We can write about that if you want.’