When I woke up in the mornings
I could always tell if he'd been
visiting me the night before
I had several ways of knowing
I didn't have to get out of bed,
I could just look at the floor -
to see if he'd left his army green marks
fluff from the indside of his woollen socks
then I'd know that I'd find the
night pot full and cold
and that I'd have to sneek out to empty it without
anybody noticing it
and once I'd be standing up
I'd feel the tiny tingling of
what he left me
seeping away in the warm morning shower
To this day I still have ambivalent feelings about the colour green