One Hundred and Fifteen.


Izzy circle


empty dance hall flashing blue, pink, green, back to blue again
ballroom dancing on the floor below, fluorescent lights and
people touching each other with perfectly poised arms


Sarah circle


The light from the window on my face like a bird
Ma and Pa in the picture frame preserved in resinous glass
Mirror holds my face like a prune
Make a fierce face at me pow pow
Kettle whistles through its teeth
Bathrobe hem melting into bouquets of bunched tissues
Petalled across the bed like a wedding night
Down the stairs one-two-skip-four
Don’t like that creaky one don’t like it
I can make a cup of tea don’t need help with that one
Cup out bag in stir stir leave it dash of milk bag out boom
Cat curled up on my knee purring like a big drum
Rumbling on gentle, warmest under his chin
Children clatter outside with their little bell voices
Smell of summer creeping in under the door



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