Читать книгу How You Might Know Me - Sabrina Mahfouz - Страница 8

filled up with all sorts of shit

boxes

bricks and bricks of boxes

building up to

it’s all just a build up really isn’t it

there’s nothing to keep us here but the anticipation

no space in here

why have extra space with no space in it

beats me

this one won’t beat me

not a chance

his hands are feathery

couldn’t grip the bones of a glove

probably why there’s a babylonian paper garden

growing mould in this

when he dies will it go to his wife

she’ll sit on a mirror of her own tears

sifting through white sheets

get a paper cut

suck the blood

corner of her wedding ring

a tray of timely memories

drop fingertip to a photo she isn’t in

rip it up, rip it all up, sleep.

No sleep for me

not for a few hours

see who’s out

see him he’s hunting for the

stiletto stash

plastic clear full

only box here without a lid

blue shoes give blisters

red shoes rub the bunion

I told him

oh oh oh oh

here we go today he’s decided red

foot soak when I get in

look, him holding them like slabs of tyre rubber

tingling with motorway crash heat

smile now sylvia

taller now ay sylvia

three and a half minutes to go

two white strands in his black eyebrows

all mine grey, ha but I have a dye kit

he might be in a car when he dies

twisting metal might make a washing line out of his membrane

gross that would be gross he’s a nice man

well not a bad man

not one of the bad ones

one of the worst ones

he doesn’t take

one minute to go

there’s that beach again

I will sunbathe there before I die

really go there on a plane not just go go

whenever I go

go go go go go oh oh oh

ah bunion fucking kills

who invented pointy shoes

asked my mum once who invented me

she said no idea my petal

but it must have been a very clever man

so disappointed

I wanted to have been invented by storm waves

to protect them from the williwaw.