November 20, 2012

Appropriate last words

That afternoon, she did something unprecedented.
She phoned him at work.

He was some time coming to the phone.
He was abrupt, distracted.
She was incoherent.
They exchanged words that had no meaning,
words that kept their tight masks of politeness firmly on.

And then it was over.

November 16, 2012

Quelqu'un M'a Dit

There are still
some bits of her face he hasn't kissed
some parts of her body he hasn't explored
running his tongue and nose
up and down her body.

Her flesh creases, folds and sags,
it's colour alters
But then he never desired her because she was perfect, but because she was she.
A Softer World

November 12, 2012

Time it was, and what a time it was...

There are receipts -
Bills from take-outs and deliveries,
A toothpick folded in a tissue from a restaurant they used to frequent on those warm afternoons,
Ticket stubs of movies seen together,
Debit card statements with her signed name still faintly visible,
Boarding pass of the flight that took him far away, away from her.

There are these and others.
They're all that's left of her.

November 8, 2012

Yasmin's fantasy

Last evening, she contemplated suicide.
She lingered at the station on the platform's edge,
but could not bring herself to fall dramatically before the rushing train.
She walked back home, crossing the road perilously
in the glaring eye of a speeding lorry.
But the driver swerved, cursing, avoiding her.

November 5, 2012

Dance at my wedding

She is bludgeoned by a fantasy -
In this fantasy, a man runs out of a clamouring crowd,
and pursued by a brass band,
He dashes into the busy street slap into the traffic.
In the flickering neons of her imagination she can hardly see his face,
But she know who it is.

Not him.