Christina walked home
from school
in a strop
she'd not seen

Benedict all day
not on the sports field
(too wet
the prefect said)

nor in the corridors
despite searching
wide eyed
high and low

and in double maths
she'd doodled his name
in the inside cover
of her exercise book

to feel close to him
at least in mind
he was there
his sister said

he was some place
or other
she'd said
in a classroom

or gym
(oh to be there
Christina mused
to be close to him)

and once home
she strode
through the house
(ignoring

her mother's complaints
of this being left undone
or unwashed linen
left on the floor

of her room)
and up the stairs
and into her room
shutting the door

on her mother's tirade
(in one of her
blue moods no doubt)
and putting a chair

against the door
to keep her mother out
she lay on her bed
and took out

the photo of him
from beneath her pillow
and lay it
on her breast

and let him rest
all day and not
one sight
not a glimpse

not a passing shadow
just the teachers
and their talk
and other girls

and their chat
and giggles of boys
or such
oh it was all too much

she mused
rubbing the photo
against her breast
(nearer to her heart

symbolically)
closing her eyes
imagining him there
kissing her lips

******* her hair
talking like he did
of this or that
of some book he liked

or some place
he'd been or liked
to go
but in her mind

at least
he was there
having placed
his clothes

on the chair
being quite bare
(as was she of course
in her mind's eye)

just he and she
laying alone
he saying yea
and she making moan

but disturbed
by her mother's knock
at the door
(the imagining dispersed

he but vapour
in her mind)
and her mother's voice
much calmer

just asking
about some tea and toast
(all sins forgiven)
yes OK

Christina said
tucking his photo
beneath the pillow
and rising

from the bed
carrying his image
and her dreaming
inside her head.