Bobby and Susan were best buddies
It was purely platonic, so they said
In fact they were so close
That when I asked Susan home
Bobby came as well
I could tell he was crazy for her
His eyes never left her
As we sat drinking coffee
In my living room
I thought I had struck out
Things being the way they were
With Bobby there and all that
I stood up and stretched
Said it was time for my bed
Susan stood up and took my hand
As we both left the room
I clocked Bobby’s dial
There was a look on his face
I’ll never forget
.
I pushed her buttons
And she opened up like a flower
What’s that the image of?
An unfolding fleshy flower
The sacred rose of Jericho
Tattooed to my ribs
The five wounds of Christ
The seven veils of wisdom
The smiling secret cyphers
Signalled between a lover’s lips
Behind closed doors
Between the sheets
Beneath the heaving flesh
Sliding – rolling on the mattress
Pressed against her bosom
Jammed between her thighs
Inside her velvet prison
My walls come tumbling down
But just in the moment
.
Take him and lay him out on the tall trestles
Put him in the shop window
For passing trade to see
Maybe some use can yet be made of him
I won’t dirty my hands with the details
Some words cannot be retracted
I’ll just say that he was here and now is gone
On twenty one occasions I asked for his forgiveness
He just shrugged his shoulders and slouched away
“No”, was all he said
Come on girl – no use moping after him
His journey is over now
But ours is just begun.
.
When did we learn how to hate?
Was it incremental
Like the constant drip, drip, drip
Of a leaking faucet
Delivering the droplets of hurt and humiliation
That gradually painted our hearts black?
Was it as sudden as the illumination of betrayal
The spike of ice cold acid in the veins
The shock of the inevitable,
The realisation of all our fears?
Or was it always there
Carried within
Before it ever had a name?
.
