Jacob

[penneddown]

I have made another edit ?

When I was seventeen 
I sunk to the bottom of my uncle’s pool,
blew wind from my lungs and
billowed in the blue half light
like a sheet on the washing line.

I remembered
blood red poppies and 
a painting at The National.
Wrapped up in your cling film
dreams -
I kept your hands in my back pockets.

Days later I was as dried out
as my grandmothers old towels.
Like terrycloth almost frangible -
Something soft loved too hard.

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Agree with your comments about wind, will have a think of something more fitting. I like blue half light. Thanks

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In fact. Edit 4

When I was seventeen 
I sunk to the bottom of my uncle’s pool,
exhaled and billowed in the blue half light
like a sheet on the washing line.

I remembered
blood red poppies and 
a painting at The National.
Wrapped up in your cling film
dreams -
I kept your hands in my back pockets.

Days later I was as dried out
as my grandmothers old towels.
Like terrycloth almost frangible -
Something soft loved too hard.