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All night Tippi and I lie with our armswrapped around each otherlike rope.I bury my face in her neckand she wakes every now and thento kiss the top of my head
I have been here once before – It was a long time ago, I don't remember when.But as my father handed me the axe-headImages exploded in my brain.
Tippi can't stand clowns.Dragon is terrified of cockroachesand Mom of mice.Dad pretends to be fearless,though I've seen him flinch when the mail arrivesseen him hide
Billy chased me round the playgroundwith hands full of fists
Billy yelled at me across the football pitchwith a mouth full of stings.
When Harry went awayhe stole a part of Mum.No-one warned us. No-one said.We looked and looked for ages –
It's New Year, 1979, at Funderland in the RDS in Dublin. In the cold calculation of the January air, a young girl tries to talk
The building is white,ivy eating its way up the broken walls,windows smalland scratched.
I like to stay upand listenwhen big people talkingjumbie stories
I does feelso tingly and excitedinside me
But when my mother say“Girl, time for bed”
Once everything was bigand you were small,but year after year your shadow crept up the wall and you grew tall.
When they were young,She kept wicket for her brothers,They batted,Bowled,Padded upAnd ratcheted up the score.She crouched behind the stumpsKeeping wicket.