we got home they’d turned the water off

it was normal to us then

you lay down in the empty bath

to feel the porcelain against your skin

I wrapped a towel around a tray of ice

and let it melt against my neck

we stayed up late for the midnight mass

and when we heard the bells ring out we held our breath

was it wasteful was it whimsical

what was normal to us then

I wallowed in the metaphysical

you lost your faith in other men

was it selfish was it indolent

the way we used to pass the time

you fell in love with the neighbour’s dog

it broke your heart when in the dark you heard her crying

what was normal to us then normal to us then

the mannequin with expressive hands

reads your horoscope to you

behold the future on a swivel stand

is it boastful is it true

and when the revelation came to you

was it the biscuit on the tin

and do the words that you’ve chosen do

nothing more than what they’re supposed to do