Empty bottles now full of air
on sideboards and magazines,
with just-polished polystyrene
carcasses of chips and chicken goujons.
Up late with the playstation on,
we rev the controllers,
engine noise empties the silence
into the bags of sweets;
they rustle in protest, a rally met
with hi-fives when the cars cross the line;
victory music soundtracks the key
turning in the lock;
the one he’s been waiting for
returning in decibels of laughter.
The dial of the room turns;
in the ambience, bodies share warmth,
talk turns to shouts above the tv,
ears sting, sleep pulls but is lost.
Drama has its foothold
in the ice shaken from shoes,
the questions of unanswered texts
and the unburdening of alcohol.
~~~~~
New light fades out of the gloom now;
her face softly peeled unto him
as she sleeps on the sofa.
Last night, at last, when the crowd
sowed silence with their sleep,
they were able to hold on to each
others’ kisses; an orchestra of breathing
and drumming hearts; breath in the windpipe
exchanging notes as sheet-music
tried to collaborate,
as treble clefts caught on tongues.
He listens now to her breathing;
in his ear in the night it tickled
- stomach lurches with desire a-sudden,
yet was steadfast during conception.
He took her arms for granted in the dark,
her interlacings with his,
cravings somehow sated too easily
in the comfort of mutual heartbeats.
In absence, his heart will wring
its clanging blood-bell,
a kiss lingering on a cheek only a temporary respite
before settling back in the armchair.
He listens now to the walls;
in the staging of life they listen
but do not record; he hears nothing.
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