Delores Gauntlett

A Question Of Love

Back when I used to play doctor: I am
passing the house with its blinds fully pulled;
the boarded up window facing the road
nails out the past from what they say love did
to the girl at a city school. Three years
she’s been in that room with her diary of hurt.
What stalks her mind robs her of speech.
Like a slate wiped clean, she returns to the bed
that is her fort against the overhang

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