Page 88 of The Black Flamingo
Why don’t you just go home.”
“My stuff is at your house; I was meant to be
staying the night, remember?”
“Fine, let’s go back to mine.”
When we get home my mum is watching
Game of Thrones. “You two are back early.”
I say the line I have been rehearsing
in my head as we traveled home in silence.
“Daisy’s not feeling well; she’s just gonna
get her stuff and call her dad to pick her up.”
I can see from the way Mum squints
at me and smiles with a closed mouth at Daisy,
she knows something isn’t right, but she
simply says, “Okay. I hope you feel better,
Daisy,” as she unpauses her program.
Keeping out of our real drama and going
back to a world of fantasy.
House of Mirrors
Your best friend is a mirror.
Other friends ask after you
when you are standing right there.
“Where are you?” they ask.
“Why are you without your other self?”
You two are the ingredients
to make something brand-new.
You cannot unbake a cake.
You can only slice. A knife is a mirror.
A best friend can be a knife.
A best friend can be a knife.
You can only slice. A knife is a mirror.
