Monday, 23 May 2016

November Dream.

at the side of her face/foreign light

I never hated you, probably never will though you scared me once; your own is so justified.

I hope it has faded.

The street was bright in the sunlight and the curtains of the open house – red – were far from opaque so I was able to hide.

And reflect.


Your dress had been red.

The first time.

You walked along the street freely, unaware of what might happen next and your surprise at seeing your old friends here in this street played in your eyes; you could not hide it when you walked inside.

None of this was intended.

But I had already heard your voice outside.

I smiled.

I tried to put welcome, sorry, what can one do, good to see you, another sorry and wow into that smile; you probably saw rabid dog.

Or fool.

So I whispered that I could leave; only you could hear.

You whispered back.

It sounded clear.



You didn’t want me to?

So we sat.

I, still folded against the curtain so that you knew that I would have let you continue past, leaning forward probably saying that I was glad you chose to stop.

You looked well.

Your eyes still smiling their surprise, but brimming also with something else.


I can not ask for forgiveness too.


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