Foolscap

I watched her walk away.
Again.
Those hips hit me with every step,
rocking my dead head.
I’d never felt so alive.

Tuesday-she shouted through
the letterbox,
how she wanted her perfume back.
I drunk the bottle
an hour later,
her musk liberated
from two storeys high.

Thursday-I woke at 3.
Her writhing with another,
felt like the bed would break,
till I woke
and felt only me
on the sheets.

Friday-I wrote the name
of all her ex-lovers,
(the ones I knew of),
pasted the foolscap
over three and a half walls-
she was everybody’s friend.

Sunday-I lay with a scarlet cheeked
bar discovery,
my hands over her ears-
she didn’t need to hear my past
hollering from downstairs.

A week later-I got drunk before church.
I saw her
outside a place we knew
I tried to kiss her like before,
a door opened behind her
and I fell to the floor.

A year later-I sit at the window,
counting heads on the street below.
My eyes narrow at hips, but
I don’t see her anymore.