What I Thought

Lana Eileen

What I thought of you was late afternoon light

wincing through glass, sloppy with shadows,

a mattress with the sheet hanging loose at one corner,

a window shut with a shred of curtain caught between,

a mirror propped against a wall, streaked and dirty,

with you reflected there, unironed shirt, no shoes—

what I thought of you I’ve tried not to think,

to store you in some lesser space,

recalling only the flare, the dark thread

of your anger pulling and pulling,

forgetting the way you danced in the kitchen,

blaring music as the water boiled,

summer leaning on the back door

like an uninvited spectator—

what I thought of you was that heat,

Melbourne trams and burnt skin,

Chapel Street at night, decorated

by the colour of police lights—

what I thought of you was a low exhale

something barely perceptible,

an Irish exit, an invisible feeling,

a train passing too quickly to be seen.

LANA EILEEN is a visual artist, musician and writer. She has undertaken artist residencies globally, from Iceland to Sweden, and exhibited her work nationally and internationally. As a writer, her poetry has been published in Meniscus and Bear Paw Arts.