trout

The Story

Mark Pirie

Thinking of you, the blue of your
eyes, your hair, long and spindly,

and your head turned away from
me, facing down at the table,

and I remember you saying
you were embarrassed

after I'd read your stories
because I then knew a part of you,

and so you wanted to leave for
another place, 'anywhere but

here', and all around us were
voices, a crowd of voices,

and I wanted to tell you my story
but couldn't, wanted you

and no one else, just wanted
you to know me, wanted you

to see me, to touch me,
wanted you to know ...

But I couldn't tell you,
I was scared, and in

the blackness, there was
nothing, there was just me.