Friday 26 June 2020

Last supper (poem)

There were some words 
unspoken between us; 
we left them on the table 
when you asked for the check.

I saw them, lying there. 
They begged to rise onto my tongue.
But I couldn't bear to have them 
come to rest atop my vile bile. 

I think you hesitated too, 
as the waiter cleared away the dishes. 
But perhaps you felt it was better
that we wipe the slate clean. 

We sloughed off those dead years 
We shed our last public tears. 
I knew grief would wrap around me 
later, like that muggy afternoon air.

The exhaust from your bike 
pumped smoke into my face. 
I inhaled gladly, my last fill
of our noxious past. 

Sometimes I wonder, what if
we had lingered, over that last meal? 
Would you have fondly fed me, 
once again with your delicious lies?


I would love to hear your thoughts :)