by Vicky Ward
Something like ‘I love you’, a whisper.
Cats with wide eyes, twisted voices,
Muffled, â€˜Is that you?â€™
In the room then pass the window,
Hind legs, wheelbarrow formation,
Heads twisting back.
â€˜Move your legs,â€™ faceless denim legs taking up the sofa,
â€˜Theyâ€™re not my legs,â€™ the voice,
Eyes, black holes and glaring.
Outside, the girl on the street,
â€˜You have to leave this place.â€™
Yellow, desert sand, something like soldiers surround.
â€˜Can we go this way?â€™
The room, â€˜Why are you screaming at me?â€™