aislingfwrites

30 Poems in 30 Days – Poems #13 – #14

In Uncategorized on April 16, 2013 at 10:05 am

Poem #13

On a crackled call when you were on a drunk night out and I was in a house with thin walls so intimate talk had to be hushed, you told me you loved me.
I wish you’d have paid more attention to the writer in me – that you knew I’d have to fumble a romantic sentence about cracked phone lines indicating the moment of understanding.

Wish you’d have been more caring to do it in a picturesque setting or with more gusto so I could actually have believed it.
Did you not know I would have to see what you were wearing to make this meaningful?

I have my eyes closed, head resting against a white wall, just over my headboard. Your voice is filler in my own head – the crackle reminds me of road works, waking me from a deep sleep, I’m not sure I want to be roused from.

Poem #14

She is not looking for love, she is looking for unbuttoned shirts,
a mouth as askew as ties after a 9-5

ten pm – she dances like she knows the blues intimately, like last week she brought them home, kicked off her black stilettos, curled up with them on the tiled kitchen floor. The next day, she sang them in the shower, her voice rising through steam and fogged glass sheets – proclaiming an untold youth to a mirror who was tired of looking at her. Towel drying her badly conditioned hair with a crisp white towel, pulled from the heating rack to the side.

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