a terrible thing

i see
the girl across the road
in an oversized t-shirt
her limbs falling out from the sleeves
like branches
her face red, her braces
glistening in the morning sun.
tears from her eyes
dripping like wax

I ask: cup of tea
as if it were a full sentence
but the full stop comes early
and it's jail jail jail
he can't go there again she says

it's the cool darkness of the gravel road
before her that she can't stand on;
the path too dangerous
cars too fast
fists ready to roll

her face contorts as she swears
not at me, but beyond me
at the grey horizon
hoping to make amends
for the thing she hasn't done
the words she spoke in haste

but the soles of her feet are
jammed to the concrete
and she can't move on
stringy hair sticking to damp face
legs purple with fear

he with his leather and lace
surly burly curly hair
wanting to belt the lot of us
into the sky

where do his thoughts go
when later that day he's
sitting across the table
from a woman
a police woman
with a husband and children;
one, a girl toasting life
with a full glass
ready to be smashed