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atiguhya padma
04-11-2005, 01:28 PM
I heard a woman cry “where are you?
I have been waiting at the station, and
You’re still not here.”

It appeared he was in a bar. With a pint.
That was slowly losing its measure (not
fast enough it seemed).

I thought of all the times that I had been
That unheard voice, that glassgazer,
Lightstruck by the nectar of Kentish fields (not
as many as most that I know).

I thought of all those that had sought me
With their worried thoughts, and their
Wavemaking fears.

And I thought of all those men
That would know what I am
Writing, like it was the blood
That flowed through their veins.

And I wondered: are all men
Trying to escape? From life, from work
From love and everything else.
And are all their women waiting?

And then I realised
There are no men
And there are no women

There is just you
And me.

Until we find a better
Word than ‘us’.