

misplacedmy reflection is walking and talking and staringmisplaced
down empty halls
and across
the river banks.
eyes shining bright with conviction
are stranded,
stark -
discoloured by sun. above cheekbones and freckles, which
i count
to pass the time.
soon followed by a mountain, above pink curtains curled
across woven, intricacy
and maybe aluminium. all to be greeted by(e)
a soft , cracked hello.
i grab for the sun- block, but the lack of light


following his funeralpolite conversationsfollowing his funeral
are scattered across grandma's oak table. floral wall paper is lined with patterned plates and statuesque figures. they're like paper dolls- edges ripped, stained, far too worn out. words are thrown over their shoulders and reality is underlined
so they can question and misinterpret later, after the rose tinted thunderstorms pass. but their teacups are painted with linen, lace and gothic veils.
chitchat tiptoes over
his forgotten body, covered
by a mahogany casket and a drapery of
--
Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble-wrap is cheap... You'll see.
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