Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Ring Return

I heard requiem mass down the telephone line. She's laughing. The Eiffel Tower is down, a toy on elastic. Because I laugh they harmonise. No, not you as well. Tighten the valve. I left that message, the rude one, I'm sorry, yes. If I could have her, she's alluring in my mirror, this morning, that woman here with me. I left early, gave someone a teaser, pass it on. My opinion is. High street satin, full blown hot house exotic at the intersection, new every time. Let go, no they're my reins, he gave them to me to look after. Look after me, backwards day, a toy on elastic. Lasso the whip. Lips to the mouth, drink a quart of fat, the glass neck. Risen from her gut, wishes rising. You have an heirloom, discordant blood, sheet music and a woman's name. I will use it sometime. But did you know it would be the girders that smear their colours across the strings? I wasn't really scared of you. Thank you. My feet want weight, but not here. The glass was slippery. I heard its noise stop, out of the pavement, no one will notice. In hiding I nurse it, kiss it, herself anoint, the edges, gently. Fire. Repulse. I don't feel every day. Her timetable was measured, a square has four sides, like an hour if you mix in some oil, lock the door, open the windows wide. You hear the traffic, it's the best thing. Safe house, I saved for it. Break. Dough churning, old fermenting. An ambition, an ambition for me. Air cushion soles don't bend, just bounce. I know, I'll go out. In her gymslip, or uniform, field camouflage on the flyover, over the gasworks. Look at me, rubber shaving the curb. Missed me, he missed me. Machine still pumping. Look where you're going. She's laughing again. I'm going, turn around, with you to the gymnasium. In school day socks. I never could jump over that bar, lift it for me, I wear gloves all the time now, Forget-Me-Nots in my in my palm, I mustn't drop them. If that's it, I've got this ring to trail. I could be ready for the next train. Tonight a night box. Her story. Returning. Pretty, pretty carousel.


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