[i]
 
Mick strokes
the picture 
  frame
  Etta James 
  plays 
on the radio  
her raspy 
    notes 
tease out 
a teardrop 
that clings
to the pink
of his eye
  like a man
perched 
on the lip
of a viaduct
  shortly before
 the fall
     
 
[ii]
 
she watches
the ceiling 
fan beat
  it’s dark
in the room
   sunshine
presses 
hard against 
the orange
curtains 
  three shafts
  of light 
  illuminate
the slow
    shift 
       of smoke
 empty 
   bottles
  & scattered
   pages
of a magazine
she whispers
 goodbye
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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