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After a Quarrel

She sat on a bench in the freezing night, in the rain.
He stood a hundred yards away, and watched her back.
They had cursed, driven the last oaths in the language
into one another’s brain.
Now one dilemma faced them both:
how to step across the concrete, forgive, be forgiven,
get in the warm again, but not do it first.

Audio file

Listen to this poem — read by Zawe Ashton