For only the second time since I’ve been with Marla,
Donal visits.
The calendar says weekly,
but that’s a lie.
He marches in – I hide.
His footsteps are heavy and possessive,
his voice a dark din.
Peggy says she caught you dancing.
And that’s all great and everything
until you have a fall
and who’ll have to deal with that?
I got you a big TV so you’d have something to do.
What more is it you need?
I’d like to see Mary.
Is she coming to visit soon?
No, she isn’t.
Stop going on about it.
I wasn’t. I just wondered.
Do you want me to change
the bulb in that lamp?
Yes, please.
You’re very good, she says.
After he is gone,
Marla dims
like a candle
blown out.
Are you still in there? I want to ask,
watching her eyes glaze over,
her mouth chewing on itself,
her hands busy with nothing.
Shall we dance? I try instead,
finding ‘Gangnam Style’ on my phone,
playing it for her,
showing off the ridiculous moves,
searching for a pathway to her smile.
When does Coronation Street start? she asks.
I don’t push her to be happy.
I go to the shop for dinner,
leaving her alone to remember herself,
giving her time to creep out of
the hole
she is
hiding in.
When she is ready
she will come back
and
I will be here.