Out of my Mind
Last year I slipped into his,
its sour wine smell
mouldy heel of bread
in the fridge, scratches
on the walls, razors at the door.
Now I am homeless
mine has been condemned.
Yours seems a better option,
the colour scheme, comfy chairs
capacious, rapacious, bit of a Tardis.
Can I stay?
Rachael Clyne’s work appears in various magazines, also anthologies: The Very Best of 52, Book of Love and Loss, Poems for a Liminal Age. Her prizewinning collection, Singing at the Bone Tree concerns our relationship with the wild. For more click here.