As a first wife lingers
at the back of a wardrobe, in a man’s
most intimate gesture
you are there
gagging my songs.
I have tried and tried
to scrub you off, but
no matter how hot the water how hard
the bristles
you stayed like a bruise, like a taste
biling up in my mouth.
A knife stuck
in my throat, there,
lurking in the back
of my mind: the inquisitor
in the dark
speaks your voice.
He pounds his fist in my head.
A killer of
unborn thoughts, standing, watching,
mocking my every step, my awkward attempts
to dance.
Your rival feels like
mermaids walking.
I have learned to love that pain.

Supported by Arts Council England