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    Gloves Off

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      i run,

      for ever it seems.

      i think i’m even running in my dreams.

      (running from

      exams and

      school

      and

      grades

      and the fear that i won’t get

      even half of what i need

      to build a future

      that will see me

      up and out of here.)

      rosie doesn’t seem to need to try.

      everything comes so easy,

      and even though

      i can’t hate her for that,

      i don’t like it when she swings

      and

      shouts

      chicken

      when i don’t hit back.

      “come on, lily,

      chicken, licken,” she calls,

      darting ahead of me

      towards the main road

      like a kid, playing tag,

      fooling around as if it doesn’t matter.

      hair still damp from the shower,

      slicked back off my face,

      clumsy in my joggers, backpack on my shoulders

      i’m nobody’s dream.

      enough, i decide.

      if she wants to be caught,

      i’ll catch.

      we chase,

      and then,

      i stop her.

      i hold on tight,

      and we laugh,

      her face is bright and smiling,

      and her joy

      is as delicious as anything,

      so i catch it,

      swallow it,

      a spoonful of sweetness

      that burns in my chest,

      and right there

      in the street

      before i can wonder

      what i’m doing,

      i kiss her.

      SHE LAUGHS

      and i step away,

      put my hand to my mouth

      want to run.

      “god, i wasn’t expecting that,”

      rosie says,

      reaching out an arm.

      but,

      i step back again,

      and try to gather myself.

      i hear a hurry of sorries

      spilling into the street

      but don’t hear

      rosie speak,

      although she keeps talking

      her mouth moving, her words are far away.

      i step back.

      before she can tell me

      that wasn’t okay.

      OH

      “you want to come home with me?”

      she says,

      and i think i must have misheard,

      shake my head, try to dislodge the glue in my ears.

      she takes my hand,

      the air crackles, electric around us –

      and this time

      i’m

      the

      one

      being

      kissed.

      I’M WAKING UP

      everything that’s been asleep.

      i don’t know where to put my eyes,

      my hands,

      my mouth.

      but rosie is sure enough

      for both of us.

      ANOTHER NIGHT

      she takes off her clothes

      and mine

      and we lie

      beside one another.

      she takes my hand

      and holds it.

      she is soft

      and i let myself touch her,

      so, we lie like that

      until

      everything

      is dark

      and clear.

      and in the morning

      she’s still there.

      DON’T ANSWER

      the world goes quiet.

      if someone calls my name

      i don’t hear it,

      if someone gives me grief –

      whatever.

      miss keeps me back at break,

      “what’s wrong, lily?”

      i nearly laugh –

      now, she notices.

      i could make her a list,

      but actually, all she’s bothered about

      is the homework i haven’t done

      (again).

      “i’ll have to ring home if this carries on,”

      she says.

      i shrug and walk away.

      none of it matters.

      there’s just

      rosie.

      MESSAGE

      I like to win you know

      it says,

      and then rosie sends

      a smiley face,

      blowing a kiss.

      THIS IS ME, MAYBE

      i’ve been thrown into space,

      have landed on another planet

      and i don’t care if there’s

      no way back to earth.

      i think

      i’m finding my feet here

      out in the atmosphere,

      the pavements are clouds

      and the sky burns,

      ignited by the sun,

      as hot blood licks

      through my veins.

      everything is

      on fire,

      and light

      streams

      into the far beyond.

      i glow.

      PUNCH DRUNK

      what’s happened?

      that’s mum.

      lil, where’s your head?

      that’s dad.

      concentrate!

      that’s jane.

      WAKE UP!

      miss says.

      but it’s better here,

      inside myself

      working out

      things

      i never

      thought i’d

      need to understand.

      MIRROR, MIRROR

      i look at myself

      and wonder what rosie sees.

      i try to make my hair

      sit flat

      and straight.

      i try to

      like the shape of my face.

      i try to

      see myself

      in a new light.

      and maybe, in the corner of my eye

      i catch a glimpse of

      something special.

      DON’T LET ME DOWN

      but,

      it’s my fight,

      i tell mum.

      had i really been expecting her to come?

      “i’m sorry,

      she says,

      “i don’t think i can bear

      to see you get hurt.

      i can’t stand blood

      you know that, lil.”

      you’ve got to come,

      why didn’t you tell me before?

      “i did,”

      she says.

      mum is hiding in her sewing room,

      dad’s waiting for me

      downstairs.

      if i’m late jane will go spare.

      mum pins the material she’s working on

      and holds it up to the light,

      not looking at me,

      pretending

      it’s all right

      for her to let me down.

      i don’t say again.

      i don’t say for the millionth time

      i don’t say

      For All My Life.

      “you don’t really

      want me

      there,

      and that’s fine.

      aunty clare will come.

      and your uncle ray.”

      i pull a face.

      great

      “just you take care tonight,

      that’s all,

      and do yourself proud.”

      (proud is what

      i’d like

      her to be.

      of herself,

      and me.)

      BERNADETTE (19)

      Here are the cupboards full of

      Things you’ll never wear.

      Dreams you’ve stitched for yourself,

      A rag doll happiness

      That sits and waits behind these wooden doors.

      You could sew something better.


      Bernadette –

      I see you

      Bright

      And

      Fine –

      In

      Gold.

      THE BIG FIGHT

      i can’t watch the others.

      sit, head down, waiting,

      nerves jangling,

      legs shaking,

      feel like something’s

      trapped

      inside,

      that monstrous pain,

      that tide of rage.

      i can’t breathe.

      i see rosie

      inside my mind,

      on the ropes, hurting.

      i won’t do it.

      “lil, are you all right?”

      jane waits for an answer

      and silence bounces between us.

      how can i tell her that it feels

      like something’s

      already

      over?

      SOMEONE IS SCREAMING

      my name.

      it’s dad and

      aunty clare.

      even ray.

      their mouths

      open and shut

      but I don’t hear the

      cheers.

      i’m wearing the shorts

      mum sewed for me –

      bright red.

      like i’m a champ.

      Lily Lionheart dad called me,

      just joking around.

      inside

      i have my own roar

      just

      NO.

      STRONG

      where’s the girl

      i’m supposed to smash?

      she’s jumping,

      nimble and fast,

      feinting,

      ready and

      waiting.

      we bump fists.

      she’s the girl i kissed last night

      and the night before.

      she told me i was pretty,

      that she likes the way i smell,

      and she likes the dimples in my cheeks when

      i smile.

      she’s

      smaller than me

      but tough –

      has muscles like rock,

      and she likes to win.

      i like that girl

      more than i like myself.

      but i could knock her down

      with one hot blow.

      because i’m stronger than her now.

      IT’S TIME

      to prove myself.

      the gym flashes

      and crashes with noise.

      i taste sweat on my lip,

      bitter and salty.

      i’m standing in my corner

      wanting to run.

      rosie’s opposite.

      on the tips of her toes

      bobbing up and down

      ready

      and bold

      in blue.

      i’m already sinking,

      already done.

      dad’s waiting and watching,

      the bell rings

      he’s cheering me

      loud

      his voice breaks through

      fists pumping

      shoulders twitching

      egging me on.

      rosie’s approaching,

      the look in her eye says

      Come on, Lily

      You’ve got to TRY,

      Don’t make this too easy

      Don’t just let me win.

      Make me look good here.

      she nods.

      we begin.

      OFF GUARD

      i’m watching for her right hand,

      she’s circling,

      waiting,

      but here come the jabs,

      as she takes first swing

      it’s a glancing blow,

      i move away

      want her to know

      that i won’t fight back.

      i don’t want to lose her,

      not over this.

      i move

      we spar

      the crowd is waiting

      shouting,

      i can’t not start.

      ’cos when you’re down

      you’re a loser

      you’re in the gutter

      you’re done.

      when you’re down

      you’re nothing

      you’re finished

      they’ve won.

      “LILY!”

      dad’s voice

      that yell.

      i look at him

      his eyes are full,

      he’s waiting for me

      to show them

      what i can do.

      he waves and points

      and i see that

      mum is here,

      after all.

      shouting for me.

      and while i’m not looking,

      rosie takes her chance.

      oh.

      i shake my head.

      taste blood

      pure and raw –

      stagger

      back

      and

      find

      my

      feet –

      duck

      another

      and then

      it’s time.

      I

      hold up my gloves

      and

      begin

      to paint the ring with blood.

      it’s easy.

      mum’s wearing red

      and orange

      and pink

      and the blur of her standing and cheering

      for me

      is all that i see.

      it goes on.

      like that.

      a trumpet blast, a fanfare

      lifts me –

      i’m gonna fly now

      simple –

      as if i’ve always known

      the steps of

      this particular dance.

      like i learned it

      in years

      of ducking

      of waiting

      of striking

      out

      at myself.

      i know what i have to do.

      to

      batter

      rosie

      d

      o

      w

      n

      drop my hips.

      breathe,

      pivot,

      force her back,

      with a barrage of blows,

      double-jab,

      right cross,

      roll under the left hook,

      follow up

      right cross

      left uppercut,

      right cross –

      don’t feel it if she hits me back.

      i smother and fall

      into rosie –

      so she has to hold me up,

      and then

      she’s on the ropes.

      how many rounds?

      it’s done.

      the bell rings.

      and jane holds up my arm.

      winner

      i take off my gloves,

      spit out blood,

      and my mouthguard,

      pull off my headguard,

      and shake the sweat from my hair

      let the cheers chill me.

      gloves off,

      am i still good enough?

      BITTERSWEET

      “you bloody little belter, lil,”

      dad says,

      he grabs me, spins me round, lifts me and whirls me,

      in front of all those people,

      in that ring.

      “i knew you could,

      i knew you would,

      i’m so proud, girl!”

      it’s just one fight, dad, nothing much,

      i say, and pull away and clamber down,

      into the crowd.

      my family are embarrassing.

      ray’s filling the place up with his gob,

      “she’s my niece, that’s our lil,

      she’s a legend, did you see?”

      i tell him to shut it,

      but don’t pull out of his hug.

      “oh, lil,” mum says,

      waiting – right there.

      �
    �are you all right?”

      she’s crying,

      but grinning

      and she holds me tight,

      i think maybe

      her smile is worth

      that fight.

      THANK YOU

      for coming, mum,

      i manage to croak.

      she nods

      and i wipe

      the blood and sweat and tears away.

      NO REPLY

      rosie has her back to me.

      when finally she turns

      so i can see what i’ve done

      i suck in my breath.

      “congratulations, lil,

      good fight,

      i guess the best girl won.”

      her swollen eye is already glowing

      with bruises

      that i recognize – i’ve worn them too

      and feel the throb and stab as if it is my own;

      smashed nose,

      the blood still smeared around her face,

      but it’s the look in her eyes that hurts the most.

      i think i screwed up,

      i think i really hurt her

      in a way that wasn’t right.

      i didn’t mean it,

      is all i have the guts to say.

      she shrugs, as if it’s nothing, forces a smile

      and i don’t dare touch her,

      as a million miles open up between us.

      suddenly the world is very large

      and i am very small.

      it spins,

      as rosie picks up her things,

      this doesn’t change things, does it?

      i call,

      and listen to her answer me,

      by saying nothing

      at all.

      LEAVING

      “are you going to prom?”

      mollie asks

      finding herself beside me.

      word got round –

      someone saw me

      in the ring

      and all the blood that

      i left there,

      rosie’s blood,

      which i never meant to spill,

     


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