Cutlery Drawer

We used to sleep
like teenagers
legs & arms
and my hair
like a dark curtain
all night
feet & hands & hearts
sharing the same air
passing back and forth
a warm portion
a shared identity,
jointly surviving
a snow drift
stranded together
after tumbling in an avalanche.
That was just
the sleeping.
Two plastic
toddler spoons
crammed together
in the drawer,
carefree & bright,
with tooth marks.

I am a
polite fork
long and calm
nicely balanced in the hand
excitingly elegant
the tooth marks remain

and you are
one of those knives,
do you know the sort I mean?

you always know
it’s going to be good
when the waiter
comes over
with a hot plate
a knife
with a wooden handle


Trudi Murray



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