The Evening Party

A collection of writings,
poems and photographs by an anonymous person.

2019 — present


The Evening Party

She’s Away, Far


Then after they,
just blushing me

he says over circles—
us two & I

our friends to
their weekends

gone‘—years later
it still stings’

our last pint
five-day noise around

‘does?’—’seeing
her on a sunbed

some other country
on holiday’

sometimes you
can’t help it ;

when he’s soft
she’s away, far

‘it hurts—you
move on

it’ll always kinda—
seeing her— a bit

’ hurt? I finish last ’ one
for the road?’

to his shrug’s
why-not silence.

Mark