Lady In Waiting
Forgetting all other things
I take to sitting underneath my attic
window,
hearing crows chatter and
pigeons skate down the roof tiles
with their three pronged feet.
And in the dirty morning hours
staying under mouldy glass.
I turn over hurts like chewing gum.
How you leant out here, bare-chested,
troubled and planned to leave
without telling me.
And I let you,
clinging like a rash
to what was already wasted.
A lady in waiting
to be deceived.
You walked
the easiest path,
and I did not follow.
Goodbye means goodbye
where I'm from
and is not just a final
empty gesture.
