Supper was a spicy affair;
cocooned in cardamom and chilli,
the newness of us flickering
against old stone walls.
The black dog slept,
woolly head on its master’s lap,
as Jack’s shape-shifting melodies
softened our edges.
Dusk danced at the door
as you led me outside,
draped your arm around my shoulders
and kissed me as the sky caught fire.