To someone who has never been caught (Edgar Calabia Samar)

This is my memory of shadows:
like some forgotten regions
of our souls, they ran after us
or left us behind
in our childhood games
of hide-and-seek
where you always disappeared
behind the same non-flowering bushes
that will remain nameless for us.

The Wedding Girl (M. Wickham)

Excerpt from The Wedding Girl

 

 

Martin shrugged diplomatically. “Your wife?”
“My wife!” exclaimed Rupert. He looked at Martin with pained eyes. “My wife doesn’t know me. We met, went out to dinner a few times. We took a holiday together. We got married. I see her for about an hour every day. With allan it was…”
“More intense?”
“It was all day and all night,” said Rupert. He closed his eyes. “It was every hour and every minute and every single fear and hope.”

There was silence.