It Never Really Happened, But It Doesn't Matter, I Love You Anyway
George Cairncross
Last night
we communicated
between the bedsheets.
Your flowered bra
swayed slowly
on the bedrail at the
foot of the bed
like a field of unplucked marigolds.
The bedsprings sang like a thousand
canaries on the mantelpiece
disguised as sparrows.
Outside,
dawn knocked on the
skylight
before coming in.
we communicated
between the bedsheets.
Your flowered bra
swayed slowly
on the bedrail at the
foot of the bed
like a field of unplucked marigolds.
The bedsprings sang like a thousand
canaries on the mantelpiece
disguised as sparrows.
Outside,
dawn knocked on the
skylight
before coming in.