Words Poem by James Mills

I see them
passing in the street,
chatting amongst themselves.

'Oh, ' I say
'You've put on weight.
I hardly know you.
You've changed since last we met.'

They prefer to go unrecognised
in public, and hurry on, clattering
onto buses, slipping into doorways.

I walk on, sighing.
They know I love them,
especially when they speak.

I don't worry, cos when we're alone
they say the sweetest things.

When we're on terms.