For her, poetry (i)Jessica Le Bas
When life clouds over
when the remote control
controls the first and the last
decisions in her day
and her, remotely aware, switches off –
When the movement of another's lips
the rise in their cheekbones, their
row of teeth turn to gnashing, snaking
innuendo, and that word –
a see-saw, a slippery slope, and she
takes to the hills, the pills
pockets full, and her hands cold as ice –
There is poetry
Little mouthfuls of life
freeze flowing and condensed
a chocolate spoon full
One each day.
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