In Time
She’d always ironed out the creases
from his forehead to his socks,
even their sheets were pressed
like paper keepsakes in an album.
Each morning she’d uncrumple
and erase the lines they’d spoken
on linens; wash then steam-spread them
left to right. But last night’s words were his
alone. He fished for his wallet in starched waves
of trouser pockets; the picture inside
showed her face at a time when
the only lines were from where
he’d folded the photo.
Carly Lightfoot is from Exeter, Devon. She has previously been shortlisted for an Eric Gregory Award and has had poems published in The Rialto, Agenda Broadsheet, Monkey Kettle, and others.