Blood Ties

Blood Ties I

Cloth cut, blood and water 

Skin and bone shaped 

Different daughters. 

Here we are the products of you 

Parcelled up, mewling new. 

Jump down from trees 

Scuffed shoes and knees 

Blonde and brown 

Little neat cut fringes - we 

The ghosts of your parents’ parents. 

Pinky promise 

Matching clothes 

To the shops and linking arms. 

Blonde natters while brown listens

On the bus: bask in each other’s silence.

 

Go to school,  

Separate classes 

Across corridors, swept apart - 

A glimpse and a wave and a 

See you at home

Cross the country 

Roll the dice 

Where will you two go? 

One goes North and the other goes South 

We’re packages delivered to the rest of the world. 

Back for Christmas – there you are

From the train and into the rain 

What’s that you’re wearing, can I try? 

Sisters, same flesh threads 

Blood tied and swapping fashion.

Blood Ties II 

Do you remember, 

when we rewrote the family tree? 

And unravelled the blood ties 

to thread together again. 

An overnight arrival, 

don’t you remember? 

A dark, thick fringe over wide-eyed 

blinking, drinking everyone in. 

Do you remember, 

how different you were and dragging around 

the history of you like a tattered blanket  

frayed edges tickling smooth new ground. 

What were you thinking, 

can’t you remember? 

As you thumbed through adult books 

scanning the words which you didn’t yet know. 

Yet, in you slipped. 

Remember becoming the tail end of this 

new band of blood ties, skipping with your 

Coat hanger shoulders and your matchstick knees? 

Our ages, they are laid out before us  

like a series of stair steps.

Do you remember hormones, how they fizzed,

cracked and fired? Soothed and restarted. 

Do you remember 

when the world ended? 

How we fell silent in unison 

and we could read each others’ minds. 

Time was heavier than bricks 

and tears were shifting mortar.

When everyone around us became strangers,

anyone who wasn’t formed in our blood ties. 

Do you remember

scratching our fingernails in to preserve our ties? 

And so looks passed between us are as wealthy 

as a word, a sentence, a book. 



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i was always a todd who lost his neil