Treasure Island

Ruth Walters

(London, U.K.)

Iron Lady


Iron Lady

She took his shirt,
carefully pressed it,
the cuffs,
its collar,
those fiddly pleats at the back
and the rest,
taking pains with it,
lovingly,
for him
imagining his broad back,
narrow hips
his thick wavy hair
and his manly chin.

Then he walked
into the room,
looked at her
saying,
”that's crap”
took
the wind
out of her sails,
the love out of her heart
and as he did
she thought,
‘you little shit’
and spit!

Submitted: Monday, December 23, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, January 08, 2014

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