Skyscrapers Raining Paper

Again, in one of those dreams
where the cityscape is now razed
though in a way that’s familiar,
in a fugue state, my dream-eye
knows: this is how it’s been. The hearts
from the heart-shaped hole punch
are scattered on the carpet, saved
after years of cleaning. You
dressed in your tartan trousers
like a young Vivienne Westwood,
offbeat in your beret. Last night
we were seemingly together
though estranged in different
cities: me, frantic, trying to get
in touch with you, stalker-ish
though with regret, where skyscrapers
were raining A4 paper, shredded
from a nuclear strike, your last
words still ringing: don’t forget
to wear sun cream (looking towards
a summer you’d never quite see—
my beach walk with your tangerine bag).
The trains between our cities
are beset by endless delays, derailments,
while I navigate streets towards
the station. It’s as if the dream
is telling me we are still joined
somehow, despite waking
and me trudging on, even though
your voicemail is off, your locks
changed. And if I want us
to speak again, I’ll have to wait.

Patrick Wright’s poems have appeared in Magma, Poetry Ireland, Poetry Wales, The North, and The London Magazine. His debut collection, Full Sight of Her, was published by Eyewear (2020). His second collection, Exit Strategy, was published by Broken Sleep (2025).