When he turned 12
the discoball 
scattered squares
of purple and blue
across the den.

The boys 
spilled popcorn,
the girls were 
whispering on
the other side
and there was 
madonna
on the radio 

The presents 
piled on tables 
vanilla ice cream
in puddles beside
slices of cake,
chocolate and gold, 
in halves.
 
Surrounded
by comfort
the cats curled up
and leaping dogs
that would all fade 
inevitably;
within ten years
the toys were sold
the money spent
the friends
disappear
and what stays
with him:

scattered squares
of purple and blue
across the den,
somewhere inside.
It's all the same:
they still whisper
on the other side,
and the boys 
trampling discoballs
like a dog chasing
the cat curled up 
so tightly before
the window.



-e.

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