10 February 2008


In another room
head tilted his face
a blur of brightness
beneath the hanging light
he does not look up
at the hush of her slippers on the floor;
she squints to see
his mouth squeezed round
but only imagines
its shape beyond the light's
glare. When she closes
her eyes
she sees it
like a red thumbprint
behind her lid
tries to see more
than this fierce halo
finally fading as she
imagines him sitting
beside her
her ankle
with the backs of his fingers
as if strumming
a guitar.

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