She’s probably on top
and it’s complicated for her.
We’re not sure who’s usurping who right now.
They both chase each other up to the top
before collapsing within
all over.
She’s breathing fast
Almost panicking
Not knowing
The wanting is definitely waning
The sun begins to appear in the window
It looks good
They both look good
But inside
something is dying
and it’s not this little death they talk about it
It’s hope
It’s mercy
It’s been lost somewhere in the back
They flip over
they change sides
It’s not something either of them talk about
as they fall off the bed
in confused affection
towards one another
And it’s all left right and centre
for a long time
until both are thoroughly screwed
and beyond exhaustion
She’s all exposed and out on a limb here.
He’s finding his feet
as he uses his phone to guide his to the bathroom
He doesn’t need a piss
He needs some space
A lot has happened here
And as he sits on the toilet seat
massaging his temples
trying to rewind everything that’s happened
She’s keeping it all together
by herself
in the next room
They sit apart for a while
and neither of them know why they are being so stubborn
and refusing to speak
It’s like the first one who breaks the silence loses
and the last one to speak doesn’t love the other enough
If they can call it that
He wishes his trousers were in the bathroom so he could leave without a trace
In the next room, she bites on his belt
and after a few minutes he returns to tie her up
like she wanted
like she waited for him to do.
PHILIPPA MANNION 