March 3rd by Ruth Truscott
Ruth is a recent masters graduate from Queen Mary University. You can read more of her work on her Instagram (@rltpoetry)
March 3rd You liked my tweet. A love story begun through mutual appreciation of Barack Obama gifs. The evening fuelled by that one notification of innocence To cast secret smiles to the ground, radiating from the walls, Various flatmate’s faces morphing into concern at this worryingly positive turn The reply short and full of secrets convincing it’s just a good mood, Determined to hide the beginning away, Protected through silences to not let this art of careful subtweets be spoiled from outside commentary.
March 6th You sent me a video about tea, Which I lied, and said I drink constantly, I do, but only when you offer it to me, Which was Thursday, Now its Sunday and no tea has crossed these lips.
I reply within the hour, You took two Then four It’s rounding off to six as I force myself to stay awake Just to watch the satisfying bright light of screen matched with that elusive ding to let this feeling of being desire drift me off to sleep.
March 14th You messaged me, ‘have a good night’ Proud you kept tapping through to connect together the blurry stories I shared, I sipped to forget you, Let limbs move freely Controlling the eyes to scan the dark room once, in the hope of finding your gaze was upon me, But still, I sought stranger’s lips, convinced they were yours.
March 18th You talked about a movie. We moved on to celebrities we fancy, I mentioned Joe Kerry And you started using my pen to write down your friend’s’ number, Saying they look the same. When I picked him for the resemblance of you. I think I forgot to say thanks.
March 20th You left a note on my desk Said I owe you 10 quid, I laughed, Placing in between pages as a bookmark, The cover reads love. I keep leaving it out, Hoping you’d read the single word, And all would become clear. In my head I asked you out for coffee again
April 11th I spent the day refreshing hoping there would be a message On every candle I wished for one typed happy birthday I’d trade all the other well-wishers for just one from you.
April 13th I sat down, just me matched with pen and ink, The pause to think transporting to endless written lines, Somehow about you…or we, I hoped silently, Instead, within five lines stood too naked all that’s contained within my mind And pressed upload. For unaware strangers to peruse, commenting, this could really use another verse.
April 20th I keep thinking about what we could be Inventing fantasies I hope we can fulfil I write tweets Share posts In the hope you’d see A like is enough to keep sustaining me for one more day anyway
April 23rd I ignore your passing greeting, And in that moment, however fleeting I held a small piece of that power you so often wield
Next to the coffee machine, I made a cup of tea. For me.
June 25th I didn’t realise today would be the last message I grasp at the gap in the door you’ve almost closed Making a list of things I could change, And rearrange To become that someone you’d desire, And even, adore.
I start to add in black ink which parts to cut away to just be something more
March 1st I read over our messages To find echoes of missed opportunity You became a horizon contained in a person Sometimes I still let myself believe I could reach it.