The White Boy…
… melting into sparkling water drops…
… a swan with human eyes…
… I’m fascinated by the whiteness…
… her eyes meeting mine…
… half hidden in the shadows…
… thaw is on the way…
… as flat as a dubbeltje…
… the wind on my face…
… smell the freshly turned earth…
… a man for nylon tights…
… crisp rattling sounds scatter…
… something moving in the woods…
… I’m here now…
… my dearest friend…
… a most horrifying instrument…
… don’t believe everything…
… as if I’m not alone…
… your soul is as black as coal…
… I don’t know everything…
… tiny drops glistening in the sun…
… tell me about the murder…
… who told you that…
…this feels too intimate…
… even though he is a gentleman…
… his father’s eyes cast up…
… and his hands fidgeting…
… they were our age when they died…
… it belongs to your house…
… two swans, not one?…
… my stomach turns by the memory of it…
… the first step towards becoming a real Catholic…
… holding the Holy Communion in front of my opened mouth…
… closing the church gate behind him…
… he tries to scoop them out…
… I needed something for me dinner…
… a fiver for both…
… pansies symbolize thoughts…
… I watch the car speed off…
… sugary surface of the tarmacadam…
… is something wrong with ya…
… she swallowed a moth…
… I’m so sorry…
… the rhythms of the wind and the music…
… it seems strange to walk with him…
… nobody expects ya to do that…
… she notices the cross…
… after dinner he leaves immediately…
… a lovely sight, so it is…
… he looks at his own hands, and retches…
… my forehead against the cold window…
… a hand grabs my arm…
… ploughed blocks of mud lay in neat rows…
… her pink tongue lies lank…
… this animal belongs in a deep freeze…
… white flakes stick to his eyelashes…
… you would think me a fish with gills…
… the colour of a moonless night…
… I pull the yellow ribbon and open the sealed letter…
… how could he attack the lamb the way he did…
… my eye catches something…
I was so struck by this strange scene that I…
… when I hear the gravel crunch beneath his tyres I know…
… are ya calling me kind…
… I crouch down and stare back at him…
… I know he’s dead…
… tears start to sting my eyes again…
… have you seen the mirrors…
… does existence have an end too…
… his engine screeching as he accelerates…
… shadows linger between the trees…
… dragging his heels through the sodden…
… he would sit by her when her cough was a gravely one…
… the fecking eejit wants to go home, does he ……
… he could if he had the inclination…
… since the day she died…
… they’re faster than the banshee herself…
… himself screaming blue murder once the horse be discovered…
… been to the post office already…
… oh by the way…
… the trees and plants will eat at its soul…
… let my coat flutter…
… watch me with curious eyes…
… and see them shoot away when…
… black silhouettes against the brightness of the sky…
… and the blueness of the sky above…
… I feel a coldness on my face…
… and slowly open my eyes…
… when the sounds of the cars die away…
… his voice tickles my skin…
… I want to know more…
… fluttering lightly through space…
… yes, of course…
… I’m not sure anymore…
… but has he given up on his dream of…
… I see my reflection in the arched window…
… and looks at my lips a few moments before…
… I watch Conn as I walk away…
… I suppress the urge to touch his hand…
