The end of the affair

In the corner, in a box

(a big box)

are all the messages

all the messages I ever sent you

the messages I sent you

and

the messages you sent back

the conversations we had

There's a hard drive

in the box

(the hard drive

I took out of the computer

when I sold it

so no-one else would ever see it)

The box sits in the corner

The box has all the messages

(to and from)

and the hard drive

+

In another box is a cd

(the cd is full of messages, too)

+

There is a box and a hard drive

a box and a hard drive and a cd

and my head

(full of memories)

+

There are papers in the box.

The papers have messages on them.

I have kept the papers

(and the hard drive and the cd you sent)

+

On the houseboat

(the houseboat where you were

so very married)

the cd and the papers and the drawings I sent

(through the post, their glasses smashed)

were surplus to requirements. Your wife,

after all,

might have found them.

For all I knew, she knew

all along. She might have laughed

(ha ha)

Oh God another one, she might have said.

Another knicker-thrower.

When I was a little girl (hard to imagine now), I used to absorb songs. They were just THERE, somehow.

On the radio, in the air, in a book I found somewhere.

My father sang while he was shaving. In the bathroom getting ready for work. A cigarette on the go, always.

--
Posted By Pen to A little life on 5/29/2011 02:05:00 AM

I have to go

I have to go to sleep now.

Up to my eyeballs

in wine

and

mourning