She glances at her watch
Shit, is that the time?
She says ‘I’ll have to love you and leave you,’
She holds my gaze a beat too long
Kisses my cheek,
Slings her bag and leaves.

Not that I’m counting, but that’s the third one this week.

And if I’m not imagining it
We’ve been playing this game for a while:
Picking up that one word
And testing the weight
Of its one open vowel:
Comfortable in the palm of the hand,
Nearly on the tongue.

She calls me ‘luvvie’ a lot lately.
I upped the ante with ‘moi lover’
(West Country accent added
To prove I’m joking.)

We each feel the word’s weight
And we each watch the other’s eyes
Searching for an answer to the unspoken question:
‘If I wasn’t kidding –
If this was for real –
If I threw this word to you –
Would you catch it –
Or would you flinch?’

We each feel the moments where it should be.
Moments as taut as a drum skin
Where anything that lands
Will resonate.

But it doesn’t land:
It circles above
Present in our pauses.

My heart looped the loop then howled
The day she told me
She loved me – in that top.
So, just so she knows:
I love this pub
I love this song
And our mate Joe: I love that guy.

But for now she’ll love me and leave me,
And when she teases me
(God, I love it when she teases me)
I’ll ‘love you, too’
Sarcastically.

And we’ll watch each other’s eyes
As we test its weight:
Heavy as marble,
Delicate as an eggshell.

We are both calculating
And we are both cowards.

© H. Eiseman-Renyard 2011