Riggwelter #16

Page 54


There is a gap between thought and speech, like a flooding mouth when cooking steam meets hunger, where my words gather even now crammed in and going nowhere. I pick the point of repetition carefully express myself as best I can but outside of exchanging pleasantries, hello/ello, goodbye/bye, rain again/again, I soon run out of things to say. Sometimes, in bed, we’ll go for days without him noticing he’s being reflected love you/love you, want you/want you until his feelings refract off the refrain don’t you love me?/don’t love me please don’t go/please go Charley Reay