Domestic Bliss


Domestic Bliss

There’s wet washing to hang up in the kitchen
I need a cup of tea
You could crack open a hard-boiled egg between us
Your mother hasn’t seen me for a while
No doubt she is immersed in drama and dust
Among the sofas
I settle for a packet of cheese and onion crisps
And lie on the bed I made
Too much water under the mattress
While you sleep in front of the TV
Nothing between us now
Except an ironing board
And a row of clean pressed shirts
No longer on my phone
We wait to see who will leave first
You in a box
Or me on a train

Jane Frances




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