Simon to Simon



In the first tangle of self-consciousness
I work doubly hard to make sure
that I’m not simply talking out loud to myself.

Then, less maddened by coincidence,
I sense viscerally the clash of two instincts:
the territorial versus a car park of selflessness.

As I call you again by our personal name,
I try tacticfully to undo
a subtle defensiveness in my make-up.

Persona temporarily wrong-footed,
I hear in a “background” that will never speak its mind
the buzz of our intimate no one.

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