I prefer theatre.
I prefer cats.
I prefer blue.
I prefer oil paintings.
I prefer walks along the Taf.
I prefer Dylan Thomas to Ted Hughes.
I prefer to salute magpies.
I prefer Rhiannon to Cinderella.
I prefer the company of my family amongst all others.
I prefer keeping a screwdriver in my bag, just in case.

I prefer to write in some order
rather than with random abandon.
I prefer anomaly.
I prefer intending to depart early.
I prefer lying awake at night worrying about
it rather than talking to doctors.

I prefer requited action over unrequited love.
I prefer flowers. Any flowers.
I prefer, where love is concerned, for remembering
special days without prompting and
I prefer the love of a good man
over the infatuation for the wrong one.

I prefer to give my children the freedoms I never enjoyed.
I prefer the world as my oyster than my gaoler
although it has not often felt this way.
I prefer the glass as half empty.

I prefer to offer solutions.
I prefer to pass through the eye of a needle
than eat a piece of cake.
I prefer conviction in an argument.
I prefer to speak sparingly
than sparing the truth.
I prefer to be Cassandra.
I prefer to ruminate in the past
than look to the future
which has had some cost.
I prefer to overthink and plan for events that will never happen.

I prefer the nature of nurture than the nurture of nature.
I prefer keeping in mind the possibility that
we are not just a genetic code or conditioned reflexes.