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I Wish That You Were Here

I wish that you were so close for me to run my fingers along your jawline.
I wish that you were here so that we could both colour and draw imaginary lines;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

I wish that you were so close for me to jump on your back whilst you cook our dinner.
I wish that you were here so that we could discuss work, and politics, and soccer, and music;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

I wish that you were so close for me to tell you about art, parks, poetry, and coffee.
I wish that you were here to watch me pee, and make fun of me;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

I wish that you were so close for me to sit on you, block your view whilst you watch your favourite channel.
I wish that you were here to twist my nose and tell me that it’s cute;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

I wish that you were so close for me to step on your feet whilst we hold each other with locked eyes.
I wish that you were here so that we could switch on the television and ignore it;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

I wish that you were so close for us to love each other unconditionally and hate each other at the same time.
I wish that you were here for us to argue, and dance to silence, and laugh;
And argue, and dance to silence, and laugh.

The Deceased Socks

Maybe I should be arrested. Maybe I should not be here reminiscing about my art of killing. I left the scene quietly, no one saw me; no one can point to me. I left her lying there, with only her socks on. Her hair was red, from the blood running from her neck. Her smile, had dried up into a death grin. What is a death grin? Oh well, I am not trying to-.

Maybe I should have taken the socks off too. Oh! What a messy crime scene. Who commits murder and leave the socks on the scene? My mind was scattered everywhere, my heart pounding like athletes on the track. So, what now? Do I go back to take the socks off or do I continue to run away from the scene. Maybe I should make a few calls, ask Nandi to go and remove the socks from the scene. I cannot go back there now. I cannot face my deeds – although perfect, even if I have to say so myself.

I have never felt so free after taking a life of a person like the one I did tonight. I should do it again soon. Maybe this time around remember not to leave the socks behind. Wait, what’s that? Is that a knock at the door? Could it be the police already? Should I open the door or should I leave them knocking? Perhaps it is a guardian angel, coming to drop off the socks. Mh! That would be nice.

Alright, they have left.

Let me switch on the television and see what is on the news. Maybe the socks are talking through the channels.

Oh no! The socks are here.