Later too, such heedlessness in things.
The way the world did not give a shudder
when the phone rang that night, her mother
weeping and saying that finally
her father had left them for good,
and through the gasping sobs on both ends of the phone
"Try to pass your exams, dear."
And then the bright hungover morning
the boy she'd just met
sauntering smugly triumphant
to his washroom
saying only, "Your residence is that way."
And all the dull pain of things washing in her head
banished home like a shamed child in her bar clothes.
And it was then that she began to hate
the sun-polished morning
and the panting glee of the children
and the bloom everywhere
that never even thought to pause.
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