i'm in raptures
a sort of an unexpected mini holiday
you've called in sick
and we're cruising the city
early drinks late lunch
looking at the river the high-rises people
tucked away
in offices and raincoats
we're high and dry and unreachable
together

when growing up what you wanna be
when grown up who you want to see
perform before...well, you know.

My uncle used to joke
about what I'd like for tea
fried or roasted mosquito's hearts
That and the Dali poster
The horses with the long legs
The frights of a little one
A sweet girl.

With this music
I put on my mood
and never change a tune.

Life has been cleft into
our life before and my life after
his death.

He said: "You drive like a bloke"
I said: "Thanks".
To boot: "Should this supposed to be
a compliment? At what point did I turn
and stayed in the 50s?

I have never actually longed for a nice wedding
(although I've seen a beautiful black-and-white striped silk skirt once that...)
I have never actually cared for starting a family
(although I've read some wonderful children's books by now that...)
And there you are then, almost 50 which is supposedly the moment to look back on life
Which is supposedly the moment you celebrate with your husband and children
Which is supposedly the moment your career is uphill and your friends admire you
for it.
None of that. Really none.
Do I miss it? No, I do.
Do I miss out on something? Yes, I don't.