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Sentinel Poetry (Online) #46

The International Journal of Poetry & Graphics...since 2002                  

ISSN 1479-425X

Editor: Amatoritsero Ede

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Tammy Ho Lai-Ming

 

Butterfly

 

He insisted on me wearing my hair in a bun

with a white butterfly pin and always cut

my fingernails on Sunday before having milk

and bread for breakfast. So there was a

precedent:

    

     like Lolita wasn’t Herbert’s first

love. When we both looked into

the mirror I saw:

 

     in his eyes the reflection of us, naked,

unable to disentangle from each other. The

butterfly eventually dropped

 

dead on the floor and she left, at that

precise moment. I know.

 

 

The Comfort of Strangers

 

The comfort of strangers. Each time

everyone has a new identity and tonight

she is no longer a dancing queen and

a girlfriend of two.

 

She tells she makes ends meet

by writing short stories for kids and

he tells her he owns a diamond farm

in Manchester.

 

Lying on top of layers of lies and personal

regrets, she feels secure

and he is asleep.

 

Reasons to Love

 

 The fact that I know

de Saussure’s Swiss

does not allow you

give me a kiss.

(for you don’t know him)

 

 Suddenly one evening

we realise

Dickens has nothing to do

with our thighs

(for you never read him)

 

 We are not

linked by Iconicity

but a constant need

for intimacy

(for you don’t know what it is)

 

 When others are discussing

serious thoughts

you say that your toilet

is very blocked

 

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