It’s my birthday
But the sun boldly burst into my room and blinded me and I felt rare, profound, disgusting happiness.
My happy birthday.
No sign of grass anywhere.
They got me three different cakes, two chocolate and one raspberry – very kind of them, I smile
They sang to me,
They covered me in buttercream and roses and wishes whilst long, pianist’s fingers, slice me from a distance.
I don’t know what I was hoping for
An email, a letter, a sign, even smoke signals would do.
A leaf on a cobweb on my windowsill on a prison-like old building on a river and that leaf says to me hello: you need me.
I must ignore the leaf even though it’s stuck on a cobweb on my windowsill on a prison-like old building on a river.