She is skinny,
thinness lines her face
makes her look older than she is.
Her green eyes dart about
like a scared bird’s
and her restless hands lit cigarettes
which she hastily inhales
and quickly stub out
into a posh ashtray
nicked from an expensive nightclub.

“You are very slim” I say.
“I could do with losing a few more pounds,
you should have seen me last year
when I was still drinking
I was bloated then, like a pregnant rhino!”
“I haven’t had a drink for a year”
she says like an afterthought.

“Now you look beautiful” I say.
She giggles then break down and sobs!
“I could kill for a drink she says”
I hug her and till her crying stills.
Poor little sparrow on a twig,
wishes to sing
but lives in fear of the raven;
all I can do to ease her pain
is to hold her close
and whisper words of love.