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Sport 43: 2015


page 37


It is so quiet in the room,
which is why you are talking.
If writing is talking.
Are words still sounds
when you read them in your head?
‘Feather’ brushes with its
soft consonants, but
not everyone’s ticklish.
Maybe you can move a feather
up her calf muscle
until she gives a little moo.
Happiness is not a thing
in itself, it’s a by-product.
The world is so fragmented.
Even your emotions lead
their own lives. These days
you rarely manage dinner together.
When you do, your emotions
grin madly while masking
well, you should know,
they’re your emotions.
Neither of you is in control.
They want you to
lean in and
kiss her
edible mouth.
It would be so
easy. Impossible.
Oh, the power of circumstance.
Oh, its mercy.