Empty Cushions 

19/08/21

She sold her book of desire at the people’s charity stall

brought instead a purple lace dress that she unclothed herself from  

on that night when she danced with a skeleton that looked like you

on that night when she danced with a skeleton down the street

that every skinny Saint had travelled on when searching for a fool

The skeleton sang to her, said you are my silhouette to infill

then stroked her neck and laid her chest upon a bed of his velvet pillows

that whispered to her, each one like falling leaves, of a life that was safe

a life that was free from desire, beyond judgement, fools and Saints

and she did smile for three years, through every note of the Skeletons’ song

and she did smile for three years, though she forgot her book of desire was gone

She stomached the love of the Skeleton and all of the Saints just laughed

they stood grinning at her behind the wilting flowers in their kitchen vase

and one night she caught one hiding in the hole of their child’s unwashed sock

and he said to her that her book of desire had been exchanged for empty cushions

it had never been sold, it was only lost

so she ran from the house of the Saints

saw another woman running fast

and she ran from the word of the Skeleton

the word her mother had run past

all of those years ago now, she ran and made sure her words of desire were wrapped

around the ring finger on her left hand