Outside The Lamb
I could say it was innocent:
a kiss after a long day, after the pub.
I could say it was the gin, but you’d know
and I’d know, it’d be a lie –
I distract myself with mourning the lost pearl,
the one that jumped from its gold post
in my ear and rolled in city dust
that night, as the man who thinks I’m beautiful
brushed the hair from my face,
and without me knowing, knocked it
into a gutter full of leaves and coffee cups,
no more fixable
than me, say, taking back that kiss.
Kate Noakes divides her time between Paris and Caversham, Berks. She is a Welsh Academician and her most recent collection is The Wall-Menders (Two Rivers Press). This is her website.