‘I was too young when I fell for God’, she said
‘I heard you’, I said, ‘I said I could hear you’.
The train was busy, far louder than usual,
and we sat together, fingers wound together. Rough cuticles.
What were we doing so young,
getting married before the eyes of our Son?
Twenty-two and not a thought for the future,
though maybe you’ll be slimmer and I’ll be cuter.
‘I know about you two and your motorbike miles’ I said,
her face turned around, tired. It was Dulux paint-chart red.
‘How did you? Did he? I am sorry’ she said,
‘Oh that’s okay, really it’s fine, not to worry'.
Tube train doors opened and I filed out in no line,
she followed behind, slow. Karma had taken her spine.
‘You could wait to hear my explanation’ she said, tired.
Across the tiled platform floor, I carried on uninspired.
‘It was a stupid weekend away, we took the scenic route. Are we okay?’
Full stop pupils and an open mouth comma, what else could she possibly say?
‘It’s only recent, not all that frequent’ she said,
‘Well who knew that Winter was the season of unfair treatment?’ I yelled.
Reached the escalators and walked out single into the fresh air,
turned left onto the street and went looking for the nearest bar.
from coffeeshoppoems.com