by Jacci Bulman
We are being served our steaks in Brown’s,
every one of the gang around a big table, for Niki’s 21st.
Just as my hot plate, with heaps of potato mash
and onion rings arrives in front of me, he says it.
I try to pretend I haven’t heard; stupidly say Sorry, what?
So he says it again…You’re just like a sister to me…
I look at the unicorn pendant dangling in my pile of peas.
Like it’s drowning in a green sea.
I try to translate this in different ways, but know the truth right through,
as someone stuck in a medieval tower when the bell chimes twelve.
Sister, he said. Bonded forever, maybe.
Going to make love in a woodland of bluebells, never.
It’s not at all that we won’t, but that he and someone else will.
I look at him. His eyes are a dark ink I cannot refuse.
As my heart dives in, implodes,
I see him feast on his new happiness.
Jacci co-ordinates The Eden Poets and Eden 4 Poetry Open Mic events in Penrith. (firstname.lastname@example.org) Her first collection ‘A Whole Day Through From Waiting’ is now available from Cinnamon Press (www.cinnamonpress.com ). She writes mostly from experience, usually about people, and her faith.