Us

We watched as he brought her presents: boxes

of Black Magic, Milk Tray, Roses; a tiny 

Catholic altar – exquisite, miniscule

doors, dolls house size chalices; perfume – 

lily-of-the-valley; pearls, sapphire blue earrings;

gave her money to buy clothes – a skirt – summery, 

slim waisted, a pattern of sunflowers. On holiday

we looked as he bought her small caskets –

red velvet lined. We touched them gingerly 

with our fingers, his voice gently whispering 

those are for your mother. We came upon them once, 

on the couch, fully clothed. He was moving

closer on top of her, turned and saw us,  

spoke to us, clearing his throat.

One early evening we saw him in an armchair,

floppy, eyes closed, his arms drooping over the sides.

We thought he had died, touched him. 

He shook, shivered, did not wake. 

Did not wake, shook, shivered 

when we touched him, we thought he had died. 

Floppy, eyes closed, his arms drooping over the sides,

that early evening we saw him in a armchair.

Or, his throat in a vendetta, clear off, 

he told us when, turning, seeing us, as close on top of her

he was creeping fully clothed on the couch.

We came upon them once. Those are for your mother

his voice quicklimed with threat, as with our fingers

we touched gingerly the red velvet lined

small caskets we’d seen him buy for her

on holiday. Gifts: with a pattern of sunflowers, slim waisted,

a summer skirt he gave her money to buy; 

sapphire blue earrings, pearls; lily-of-the-valley

perfume; dolls house size chalices, doors,

miniscule in a Catholic altar, exquisite,

tiny; Roses, Milk Tray, Black Magic.

Boxes of them. We watched as he brought her gifts.