Our Mutual Friend

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I can’t wish I’d never met youCC Image courtesy of Thomas Leth-Olsen on Flickr

That you hadn’t appeared


A little shy

Around the corner

I’m looking for Anna

I think you said

And proceeded to tell me of our mutual friend.


That I hadn’t sat beside you in the kitchen

That first day

And listened to you talk

And thought you the leader of the group

And felt a little awed.


That I hadn’t read your words of congratulation

And smiled so wide

Because you were the first to write the way I felt inside.


I can’t wish I’d never met you,

Only wish I’d met you sooner.

CC Image courtesy of KayVee.INC on Flickr

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November Song

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I wish you’d forgetCC Image courtesy of KatieSz on Flickr

You said you’d forget

You said

I might get drunk or I might forget

And contact you

Though I’d asked you not to


Sorry you said in advance.


That was October



Here we are

In the month of remembering

And you haven’t forgotten.


I wish you’d forget

I wish you’d get drunk on poppies and forget

But you haven’t


CC Image courtesy of DafneCholet on Flickr

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This is silly

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CC Image courtesy of Urban Sea Star on FlickrI bought that scarf


Because it reminded me of you.

Yes I did.

And the scent
Orange blossom
When the bottle ran dry
I bought another
Because you said ‘Very much’
To my question
Do you like it?

What else?

I told you that I moved,
But not that it would be easier to love you in a double room.
That that is why I moved.

The job – taking the job was prudence
But also I fancy I thought you would like me better in it
Or that I would like me better in it
And so,
So would you

Like the scarf.

CC Image courtesy of Romana Correale on Flickr


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Keeping Time

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CC Image courtesy of machernucha on FlickrTwo sat down

For dinner at eight

Knowing the table might turn

At nine thirty.


Half past ten

I checked my watch,


Not believing what I saw.

Is it just me,

You said,

Or does it feel like we’ve only been here an hour or so?

I smile

At my watch face

Feeling happy-sad

That time has slipped away.


It isn’t just you.

CC Image courtesy of Susanne Davidson on Flickr

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The Voice Of Reason

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‘I heard from Germany today.’CC Image courtesy of mira d'oubliette on Flickr

This is what I’ve taken to calling him, him being Viable Prospect.  Never has a pseudonym seemed more ironic.

Colleague looks excited.  ‘Ooh you should have heard just now what Zoe was saying, about you and Tristan.’

Zoe is a colleague of ours.  I frown.  ‘Huh?  What was she saying and when and why?’

‘It was just now and like, half an hour ago.  She’s always talking about it.  She was saying how she thinks you’re such a good pair and she’s sure you’ll end up together.  Y’know, she’s got a sense about these things?’

‘He has–.’

‘She knows he has a girlfriend,’ she interrupts, ‘but she still thinks – you should have seen her!  She was getting so excited, saying how he clearly really likes you, how he takes every opportunity to come over and see you, and–.’

‘He doesn’t.  I mean, I know when he emails me rather than coming over, and – he doesn’t.’

‘He and his girlfriend need to break up,’ Colleague mutters, as if she hasn’t heard a word I’ve been saying.

It’s weird, being the voice of reason.

Something occurs to me. ‘I remember Zoe saying she loves romantic stuff, so I wonder – it might be that she’s looking for it.’

‘P-ossibly, but she’s usually right about these things.’

Colleague has a point.  There was the time Zoe guessed that Beth was pregnant almost before Beth knew it herself, and there are other examples.  But still…

‘I loved what you said, the other day, when I showed you the photo of his girlfriend!’ I say.  ‘When I asked what were you expecting, and you said, ‘I think I was just expecting to see you there, Anna’.

We laugh.

‘It’s so annoying,’ she says. ‘They need to break up.  When’s the office party?’

I laugh, thinking of Matthew.  They’re so different.

‘The thing is, Tristan’s so decent, he would never cross the line.  He wouldn’t even flirt.’



It’s weird.  He’s funny, hilarious even, but it never feels like he’s leading you on, not really.  Which, let’s face it, is a bugger.  There’s too much about the guy to admire.

I pretend to do some work for a bit.


Colleague looks up.

‘… do you honestly think he fancies me – I mean, finds me attractive?’


‘But, really?’

‘Yes, and Zoe’s convinced of it.  He clearly likes you, and you get on really well – and you’ve got loads in common.’

‘Yes, it’s a bit unnerving how much we have in common.’  I frown.  ‘Now I’m annoyed.  I wasn’t annoyed before!  It’s your fault!  And Zoe’s!’

Colleague laughs.

I shrug.  ‘But… there are other people you have lots in common with.’

Germany, for instance.  He loves poetry, and music, and we have the same sense of humour.  And… Tinder.  We have that in common.

CC Image courtesy of Guus Krol on Flickr

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