Wearing your tales,
The jewellery of your stories hang
From my ears, wrap around my wrist
Names like fizzy sweets
Get their first taste
Rolling over their shapes,
Foreign spices on my tongue.
Jeans feel unfamiliar
Hold too much in,
Forgotten fibres against skin.
You bind a blanket sewn with scents
To keep out the air of a home
Fresh returned painted,
New colours clash
Painfully against the lush
Of England’s drunken climbs and falls
Into a time before mangoes
And sea wolves.