By Devon Webb
My duvet is on the floor
& I havenu2019t emptied my rubbish bin
thereu2019s dust on the shelves & hair on the carpet
& crumbs between my sheets
what I mean is Iu2019m a mess
& Iu2019m embarrassed by my own lack of composure but
I curl into the thought of you anyway
cos it takes me away from this
box of a room which howls all through the night
my heart a wind tunnel & you
blowing into me & out the other side
leaving me shaken &
displacing the cobwebs from the roof
maybe when you are here weu2019re not here at all
but in our own projection of paradise
where everything is air & light
a bright fracture in my dusty claustrophobia
a perfect stillness in my cluttered mind.
