[Hidden behind the candyfloss burps]

Hidden behind the candyfloss burps of hey and how are you,

Concealed beneath ‘I don’t know’ defence,

Reflex that deflects skilful asking darts,

I wonder if I have no choice but to be selfish, presumptuous, breakable.

Do I need others’ breezing breath to fill my happiness?

Glances, yeses, and the mystery of mustard yellow tights.

My bursting flight of spotlit laughing on the pavement

dries to sighs in seconds.

It’s so easy

to deflate into lonely doubt.

Coloured creases of downy skin

and the tactless scratch of green biro.

I have to keep running to feel I’m going somewhere.

Reality eats

slow-moving prey.