Clarissa

The curtains trail in blues and greens
billowing as the breeze
floats in the open window
parting the filmy silk, reaching
cool fingers in, keen
to touch the young girl's
thighs as she sits rocking
in her chair, gaze
locked on the land out there
unseeing the summer day

colour in her head passionate
transfixed on purple, red and black
she strokes her own skin absently
for lack of any other touch

head lolling gently side to side
she wonders, is it time? she could
begin another one of lilac, rust and green -
just then the Nurse comes in

jolly
bustling
starched and white she is
thinking of her lover and their
sweat the other night as she
marches down the room familiar
with the vacant stares at her uniform -
she fixes-on her
best smile

the girl's eyes glaze
at this expanse of white looming
too blank, too bright, so she
gently strokes her own skin and
begins again: rose gold vermilion her
eyes fold inward until she can't see
the sun on the trees, can't
feel the breeze turn cold

Nurse doesn't notice
the girl's skin stipple
as she tuts to herself receiving
no response to her enquiry but her
voice is bold and happy as she bends and
puts her mouth to the girl's ear -
that's why she's here - someone
has to care - so purposeful she
bawls:  AND HOW ARE WE TODAY CLARISSA

but Clarissa's eyes are still turned in colouring
she doesn't hear because
she knows she is of no
consequence  -
will never have a lover
and no-one misses her
the present absent sister Clarissa.

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