Poetry: She and Me by Niall Machin



She and Me

She knew me. Knew the dirt between my toes. Knew all my old jokes.
She loved me. Loved the smell of me. The butter on my toast.
She cared for me. For my love. For my headstrong head. My thirst.
She hated me. My suspicion. My jealousy.
She raced with me. Competed every step along the way.
She needed me. My warmth. My tenderness.
She pushed me. Up ladders. Through hedges. Too far. Not far enough.
She wanted me. To be everything. To be there. To change.
She gave me: her best years, a son, love, hell.
She cursed me. My forgetfulness. My ignorance. For being a man.
She applauded me. Occasionally. For being me. A nice guy.
She resented me. Frequently. For being me. A righteous guy.
She danced with me. She made love to me. She kissed me.
She fancied me. Stupid. Once.
She grew old with me. She watched me shave. Washed my clothes.
She undressed in front of me. Bared her body and soul, stretch marks and all.
She trusted me.
She betrayed me.
She fantasized with me.
She lied to me.
She planned with me.
She worshipped me.
She abandoned me.
She asked me: what I wanted. What she wanted. To leave.





Niall Machin has had poems published in various UK mags including Atrium Poetry, Bath Magg and 192 Magazine. After a long stint in London he now lives in rural England watching the sky and bothering wildlife.

Comments