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For Sale<\/strong><\/p>\n We are an abandoned house. The two of us, outside. Both of us sleeping sound Us eating our own hearts Never once knocking or entering Always waiting quietly <\/strong><\/p>\n Sam Kolinski<\/strong> lives in Glasgow, Scotland. He works as a freelance journalist and is wholly indebted to Sam Willetts’ first collection New Light for the Old Dark.<\/em> Currently gathering material for his first chapbook, Sam’s poems have recently appeared in The Glad Rag<\/em> and The Treacle Well<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" For Sale We are an abandoned house. Walls of wood slowly stripped dried bark fading on the floor. For Sale sign creaking with the wind’s song. The two of us, outside. Feet pressing on wet leaves. Selling ourselves with smiles that could’ve been widened with Sellotape, for all we care. Both of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6814","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6814","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6814"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6814\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6815,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6814\/revisions\/6815"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6814"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6814"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6814"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nWalls of wood slowly stripped
\ndried bark fading on the floor.
\nFor Sale sign creaking
\nwith the wind’s song.<\/p>\n
\nFeet pressing on wet leaves.
\nSelling ourselves with smiles
\nthat could’ve been widened
\nwith Sellotape, for all we care.<\/p>\n
\nin separate rooms.
\nVisited in our dreams
\nby buyers, all who leave
\n(us) disappointed.<\/p>\n
\nat breakfast, pushing
\nan awful, mushed silence
\naround a pool of plate.<\/p>\n
\nthe other’s door, that themselves
\nare stubborn fronts for sad,
\nempty rotting rooms.<\/p>\n
\nfor the phone to shout.
\nFor the front door to clack.
\nFor the perfect buyer to arrive.<\/p>\n