by Emily Blewitt15 Nov 2013
You switched allegiance, went and bought
a scarlet shirt you wore to please me, so you thought
and watched the men in shirts like yours
pass up and down a threadbare pitch.
And while you stood and roared, I thought
this was a man’s game played all neck and chest
by boys who tackled roughly, might accept
an offered sponge, or smelling salts;
were hardened, bloodied,
could shrug it off.