The truth is, I didn’t like Us.
You kept on about it as though it was truly
Something, I don’t now – something.
I saw you, as in a mirror of myself
With the person you were
With your tasteful little coat
And your traditional little churchyard of teeth
And your clumsy cold hands
And I worried, at how similar We were.
I feared you already knew all about it.
Yet there you still were: there was Us,
In spite of ourselves
Ordering tickets for that show, or this train journey
For you and me, and for You and Me
And saying how much you dislike Chardonnay
And I saw us a little way off from
The other side of the restaurant or
The other side of the street and I said
I have to be honest with you,
Even if I can’t be honest to myself, or Us…
And I let your cold, clumsy hand fall away;
And, you know, after the initial coldness
I rather liked that about Us.
Isn’t it great, when you can finally walk away from an absolutely awful relationship? It is always awkward to get the ball rolling – but then, looking back, you think: Sod him.