Friday 3 January 2014

Newly married Solitary Female

The main road is right ahead,
even though the sounds barely reach me.
I press myself, close to the pane of glass, 
palms exploding outward, into other apartments.
Toes at attention, body leaning precarious,
10th floor sky- dense, mushrooming 
with silence.

The cars pass, like time,
the billboard changes, without warning, inflicting 
the strange gaze of the new model.
I remain wary of new relationships,
the dynamics refuse to fold
into the creases of my skin.
Everyone an expecting stranger,
one faux pas and I'm dead meat.

Arriving on the wings of shock
and out-of-favour,
I allow my persona to overwhelm me
from falling into pieces.
Unconvinced with my own performance
I notice (the cracks in my head)
my glass of a head
bobbing merrily, conversing, at sea,
making statements (that)
I think are mistakes.

The main road is right ahead.