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Showing posts from June, 2012

Heart stammering

Years came in a rush, leaving you
with so little

to say.
What have you been doing?  
Someone leans to take a sip. Maybe it’s me.
There’s no right answer to that so
I look sideways -

in class, teaching English grammar,
in the bar or at home, listening to
his fears reducing me
to heart stammering.
You don’t see me, I say ashamed of the thousands of women’s voices from movies and literature – the residues. Of a boarding school girl who stammers about what love and happiness should be. This isn’t it, she says defiantly. I encourage her. Say some more. Tell him. You’re not it, he says and shuts her heart.
She doesn’t trust her flesh. She doesn’t trust her mind. Still, she corrects spelling and grammar and gives in red bad marks, while he plays table tennis and darts.
He needs his friends, or so he says, for the talking and drinking. She needs him to acknowledge her on the way back.
The bell rings and you rush outside for a cigarette. For every fifty waiting minutes, ten minutes more. This is your life. Bulls-eye and …