Nineteen

Catriona Yule

 

It was late
when we walked:
me — brisk
over hot shiny cobbles,

my face turned away
so you wouldn't see
rivulets
blackening my eyes.

In the bedroom,
you wanted
to dry my hair.
I wouldn't let you.

You asked again
threw me a towel.
I buried my face,
felt for my hair.

You watched my hands
stroke each strand
then sulking
you went to make coffee.

I watched
your disappointment
leave the room.

Watched
every
inch
of
you.

 

Published in Pushing Out the Boat Issue 6, 2007
(Pushing Out the Boat)
and in Shedding Skin, 2007
(Koo Press)

Pushing Out the Boat 6 Shedding Skin


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