three rings
then again, we could
.
.
the phone burrrrrrs off the rest and
I burn off the rest of the daylong shadows with a match
Sulphurous
.
.
we could be lovers, i suppose, but what for, really?
.
.
for fun,
for conversations about penguins
and sharing meals
.
.
i smile.
i wonder if he would say that if i were a fat cook
with a patio
and no thyme ~ and i laugh while i tip on my chair
.
.
we could be lovers without fun, or friends without
passion,
why waste both by being greedy? – i ask
.
.
i would never ask you to choose, never promise, never lie
.
.
surely saying never is a kind of promise,
let’s say nothing and lay in the dark
.
.
.then again
.
.
don’t say love, don’t say love, don’t say love
.
.
why are you afraid of love ~ love is lovely?
love is strong,
not snap.brittle,
not prinkling and shardish,it bounces, like a vinegar egg.
.
.
but look at you. you are in so much pain and all for love, all of it, for love.
.
.
Shh, so very little to do with love, so very tiny and nothing
ob lei gaysh un
that is all. and bricks. Yes. it is rather a lot about bricks and
.
.
you are small, come here, come and watch television and I will make you toast and draw eights on your arm with the teaspoon handle. I will hold your feet and watch your face while you think about things and i will listen to you. come here
.
.
i have to go now
to the river
i have stones to swallow
i will see you soon
.
.
.
.
epilogue
.
snipping foil with scissors is so very satisfying, so sharp.clean and perfectly blunting and i
breathe and
breathe and
breathe . still . hearing the sea in the reciever, my breath soporific on return
{amongst the escape- the retreat of wordmemories; he shouts about the car and i crumple inside ~ for the differences balanceon a cottonthread on an eyelash and now, now again i am crying like a bruise, like an apple bruise and shaking so badly, and it’s all about the car}
.
.