I saw a flame haired girl with a purple coat
and of course I thought straightaway of you
how could I not? The next I thought of your twin
For one brief moment I thought not just of you
but that it really was you and then
my disorientation was confusion indeed.
The sun was behind her and she had that
fiery halo I remember from that very first
meeting with you. The sun always seemed
to shine when you were around.
You were such a pretty girl, a ginger kitty
“It’s not fucking ginger moronic boy
how did you tell p from s with such
a blindness for colour.” And we laughed
Even when little sister said yours really
is ginger and held a bunch of her hair up
to contrast those different shades of fire.
Dear Kit Kat, the joke that made your sister
so cross and launched a thousand “arseholes”
Yet it made you laugh. Your protective twin.
Over protective we used to think, you were
big and tough enough to take care yourself
yet somehow it seems she knew, that she
sensed what was to come.
The day the sun seemed to stop shining for you
Is seared on my memory like a different kind
of flame; a burn, a scar that never fades
All that pain, the tears, the blood, the horrors
That can still make me wake sweating and panting
in the night as if I was there again with you.
And yet my pain was only secondhand, you dear
lived with it every day first hand, you lived it
and it lived in you. Until that final day when you
packed it into a boat and took it off to sea