The Ring
for Pete and Anna James
And if I said a part of me
leapt from a skyscraper
as I took your trembling finger
that would be utterly true,
each tiny syllable detonating
in my throat: forsaking;
till death; who had kept
a promise once, a week,
then dined out on the story
with whoever would listen.
Your beaming smile had none of it:
Don’t say a word you can’t mean.
Sounding twelve and looking it
I jammed the ring onto you,
knowing nothing of honesty
except you honestly looked gorgeous.
So believe me when I say
I would stand and face you again,
promise everything a second time,
this time to savour the words.
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