She stands at reception
“I have a meeting with..”
he is walking past
sees
and interrupts, with

“me”

“Yes. how are you?”
he nods fine and smiles
she speaks,
accent rich

about the meeting

He is distracted, listens to
stay focussed, then

they talk in the company of
the others
for an hour, maybe more

Afterwards he sees her to the door
but
even in the good light
isn’t sure
if attraction in mutual
and whether or what to say

She leaves
departure to separate desks
for the moment
maybe longer

The rose tear

cries its way down the

pallid expanse

stalls

then falls

plop!

onto the carpet

its the long weekend and there are all sorts of plans
but no time to do them, as it turns out
because of the need to sleep
and besides
so it transpires
any ideas on decorating the house are
doomed to failure
so why bother even trying
when there’s a bit of tv to watch
and maybe the pub will still be serving food
that should fill the day
until its time for bed

He said he wasn’t going to ask her
She said she didn’t want him to
He said fine, but could they go together
She said she’d think about it, before saying yes
He said sorry, later, to his friend
She said it wasn’t her idea, go speak to him
He said he’d known it wasn’t right, or fair
She said she didn’t care, never liked him like that

scribble

relocate under coffee cup

view with tv glare

inspire by distraction

plot, plan, excite

note on fag packet

recycle

forget

strip away
the skin and fat
inside, you’ll see
I’m still a twat

There’s the voice again. Quiet and whispering. Listen as it weaves its magic through the trees.

Here’s the touch. A velvet kiss to warm the paling skin.

Taste the aroma. Fresh. All encompassing you.

Walk on.

She sat
glass in hand
birthday celebrated
around her

She spoke
out, his name
to the silent
mobile

His words
love at last
called to wish
them together

the lights go off inside the void

you see this

car crash thoughts

turn your head and you’ll find

the grieving relatives

there, in the background

equally confused

hurt through no

direct contact

wondering what they created

back then

and thinking

it used to be so different

and how

and why

has it

did it

will it always be

this

destructive thing

Think of that time
the first
most important
hopeful, distant
still now
burned to your memory

The mind doesn’t need to
look back
when part is
always there
living with a shadow
on the present