like

like a mirror

like a new pin

like a lullaby

like an aphid

like coal

like acetone

like concrete

like pure driven snow

like paper

like Africa

like gold dust

like a dream

like a river

like a lion

like a leaf

like an island

like a deep, deep sadness

like a photograph

like an angel

like seeds

like Campari and soda

like the wind

like flowers

like bedlam

like you and me

like putty in her hands

like ice

like propane

like India

like talc

like Natalie

like fire

like a rash

like stone

like poison

like falling off a log

like the way it looked before

like a brother

like thunder

like living forever

like me

like an arrow

like it was never there

like a dog but bigger

like all the others

like a rocket

like a book

like everyone else out there

like Portuguese rice pudding

like iron

like a bull in a china shop

like poetry

like soot

like water off a duck’s back

like wood

like long words

like watching paint dry

like it or not, it won’t go away

like the ocean

like a warm spring morning in rural Spain

like morphine

like the way you say “make yourself sick”

like the width of this room

like another world

like a dull TV program

like a very pale pink

like it will never stop

like toothache

like a fairy elephant

like your sister was

like we were last spring

like a sparrow that can pronounce the word love

like pins and needles

like an old lady’s handbag

like treacle

like stars

like a bright shining lie

like one hundred years of solitude

like the bible

like a child

like lemonade

like a sinking feeling in your stomach

like a bee sting

like chocolate

like a photo of someone you’ve never met

like trying to remember things before you were born

like trying to remember something you never knew

like the things computers do

like a dog on heat

like malaria

like sawdust

like a black and white movie

like when you were little

like a pale yellow flower

like falling off a ship into a dark, dark ocean

like losing your best friend

like I was before

like Martyn does

like the sun on my back

like it or not you’re still here

like TV

like watching paint dry

like the sound of your own voice

like loving someone who doesn’t exist

like it was never there