The encounter

Sorry I turned up at your door this way All dressed up On my way from a coffee shop So sorry you know Didn’t come to see you  Again That’d be embarrassing Just came to see your friend Selling weed out his window Cept he’s closed it now so I’ve had to knock And …

A familiar sense of falling

To walk into this kitchen is to see You standing, softened in the yellow light Of the hob and red from the wine and our earlier tries to get drunk while we cooked. It is to see you swaying tunelessly To our Spotify playlist whilst reaching Out and turning from the counter and sink to …

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