Forgetting Us

 

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. 

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