When I was a goldfish you never noticed me.
Every day I would watch you eat breakfast.
I knew your favourite cereal, how many times
you would chew before you swallowed each spoonful.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays you worked late.
You bought Chinese food and ate it in front of the TV.
This invariably gave you indigestion.
I did worry about you - you always looked so tired.
At night I would circle round while you could not sleep.
I would sing you lullabies that you could not hear.
Sweet tunes to drift you away to a place I would never go,
until the light of morning broke through the dirty window.
When one night you didn’t come back from work,
I watched the mail pile up for days, alone in your empty house.
The phone rang once, but I couldn’t reach it.
Was it you? Did you phone me? Did you?
I dreamt you chose to swim with me.
You liked the patterns light makes on the surface.
How the world distorts with each turning tide
as icy water soothed your tired eyes.