short sighted my lipstick mistaken for your lighter my black dress/yr jeans your clothes now claimed for my own write whilst you step outside for a smoke – wafts as if shaking shoulder/laughter i stare at you while i comb my hair for ten minutes until i realise i need a mirror as i know every inch of your face but not the condition of my hair took apart the sandwich made two new i didn’t like the egg, lettuce or tomato so they had to go Kate Lewington (C)
Poetic Insights
For those who are curious