CHARMAINE THOMSON
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Licorice
Unprepared, you made the tea
your hair towel-bound
I couldn’t wait to get started.
What was that half diminished again?
We pause for biscuits and mark time.
Liszt on the wall and cushions on the bed.
I mapped your body
you unveiled your hair.
Flatmates complaining about my car blocking the driveway.
We hid in the loft all afternoon
leaning into the window sills.
