Vignettes
we move through streets
washed in sepia and oil
searching for vanilla ice cream.
i don’t look at you
but we look at the water, trembling
quivering light pins.
we move between fish tanks
laughing at cubicle people,
skirting round the edges of ourselves.
a woman all bent
over piano keys,
deep-sea creature
cast in red.
casual words and legs
against countertops,
palming a rhythm
from wall to wall.
a man
spilling yolk,
spitting shell
into the receiver.
but you are still without dessert
so march on, as all must do
strobing through capsules of life
entombed in windows at night.
Ilena Shadbolt
Year 13
Queen Margaret College
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