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It took me 24 hours to create the woman I wanted you to meet

To find her dress, her makeup and her hair, to shave her and pamper her in oils and creams

To match the rosy tones of her nail polish to her underwear

(a tiny detail yet so delicate)

To hand pick the memories and anecdotes she would share with you in confidence

To make her smile in a way ladies smile in movies, full of secrets

To force that Downton Abbey accent into her mouth and in between her consonants

To breathe life into her in front of my broken bathroom mirror

Our rendezvous took 24 minutes on a sunny afternoon on the Heath

Her favourite place north of the Thames - my second

(The first is a Polish coffee shop around the corner

Where the owner makes me laugh and gives me a taste of his mama’s homemade jam)

You were perfect, with a kind voice, strong hands and warm embrace

We both saw it, her and me, our future with you

A little house somewhere in Surrey, a wall-to-wall bookshelf in our beige bedroom

The bookshelf her or me would be looking at while making love to you

It took you 24 seconds to destroy it all,

Our bookshelf, the little house, your embrace and your voice

As I grabbed your hand and took you to my favourite place in confidence

And you didn't laugh with my Polish, you said no to homemade jam,

You sat outside with your tea and used the words ‘these bloody immigrants’

Not even knowing where he was from, or where I was from

Your hatred was fuelled by a concept, not by the people themselves

In that moment I was left alone with you so I just listened, patiently

And once your mouth went dry from spitting those angry words into your cuppa,

I smiled and said ‘fuck you’ in my beautiful language you will never understand