How many times does the opportunity arise

in which you can visit the ghosts

and smile with relief as a tear gently rolls down your cheek?

A bedroom door hides many a secret from the world,

the stolen, lengthy, beautiful snog with a girlfriend, heavy petting banned

in the local swimming pool, but a delight worth risking

when she cycles

over to see you from Wendlebury one summer’s day

in ‘85 and music from a band worth loving plays, crackles, skips

like my heart as she leans in again,