Tuesday Afternoon

by Stephen Du Marais

I wanted to tell you,
on Tuesday afternoon
how sweet you looked upon the stair,
but words were not forthcoming.

On Wednesday morning,
you pulled an elastic from your hair,
and all I wanted to say
was left dangling there.
Upon my lip.

On Thursday evening
our clock rang nine,
and the way your eyes cast furtively
across the moon-silvered room,
left a silence on my mind.

On Friday afternoon I caught you,
as a man you thought was me,
came around the bend, and your disappointment
made me weep,
and now, on Saturday morning,
I have finally found my voice,
but now you are … asleep

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