it could be said that the walls hold the space
—if the mother is made of brick and ritual—
effacement effortfully won by means of plants
spidering quietly in the same bookable room
it could be said that the time is what really
matters; fifty minutes in the chair and air
tightening stochastically, as meaning shrugs
and swaggers before talk’s cresting prow
it could be that languishing silence is but
a space held between our minds, favoured
differently and understood differently, and you
already know the limit of what could be said
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Supported by Arts Council England