Hannah Van Hove
from Part / Parcel
1.
I want to
make this
you and I
my aim is you
see this and
never forget me
think of me
in these terms
on my terms
I’m an image
a muse
I speak French and
charm the socks
off
people
I hang on
to your lips
question only
what
when
I ask what is
blue if not
the sea?
but you were never
convinced
I try to
lure you in
and talk of
shells and
sheep and
small jelly beans which
float like
little tadpoles
getting their
stickiness washed
off
of them
Often
often
I still hear you
say it
whisper it
when I ask you
how often?
how many times?
a week?
a month?
a day?
times three hundred
sixty five six
a leap year like
that one
jumping out
on us
your friend’s birthday
on the last day of
the month which is
hardly ever
complete
whole
Whole
the holes
I try and pick
and did pick
in the end this is no
longer what I set
out to do
for you to
see this now
I hope you will
treasure it
for a little
how much?
how often?
I don’t know
but please
not for ever
after all
I was selfish in
wanting that
2.
There
you were
and voices
echoed in
the background
Beyond which it
was impossible to
make out it
was impossible to
apprehend it
he she we
yet looming larger it
gave way was
moving
inwards
stretching beyond
and all these
interpretations
accompany yet don’t
reflect that which
that which
Which what
the voices squeak and
tugging they
pull the hair
a strand of which is
yanked the pain
a simile of what
happened
when
Hannah Van Hove lives and works in Glasgow. She has recently completed a PhD on mid-twentieth century British avant-garde fiction.