tranklements

Shining for no-one
January Christmas decorations
at the post Christmas work’s Christmas do.
Take your pick
Pernod and black, Gin and orange
something unknown and blue.

He won’t dance,
so it’s just you
new frock
and silent disapproval.
His sullen mardy face
a pathetic reaction too many.

And then
you’re on the outside inside
looking in and out.
It’s you but it’s not.
You see
what will be
a split second ahead.
And
it leaves your hand
slowed down by the rage
you’re throwing at him;
confidence chipping
days of silent rage
taken time
and a bottle
which misses
and smashes
beside his sulking face.

Now it’s all quiet
and it all settles
in the clean space of your head.
Everything in its right place.