The Girton Poetry Group

Not Averse

Over Easy

I don’t wish to cast any aspersions

upon your nature, the way you nurture,

but as we intertwined at the centre

of the world, dragonlike, I was, I think,

less a hatchling, head under my own wing,

and more an egg, framed by a serpentine

mouth; less folded in your body and scent

than I was fried by a blast from your snout.