by Emily Tucker
I will smile so sweetly,
at the old woman squeezing tomatoes,
In Sainsbury’s.
I won’t want to heave,
at how many
She’s touching.
I am going to get SO drunk,
trip through crowds of strangers
In a Friday night pub.
I might even ask someone
for a sip,
or two,
of their pint.
I’ll make habit again,
of running for the tube,
making people sigh,
when I push through the doors,
at the
very
last
second.
I am going to read menus like novels
order plates
upon plates
upon plates
of food that’s been chopped up
by others.
Then more.
I’ll be a pest at Zedel
And eat all the bread
From the baskets kept where
waiters breathe.
I will sit by my granny
nod along to her talk
and steal sausage rolls
from the plate let half-eaten
by my oily thumbed brother.
With every new mouthful,
I will shout in my head,
I love you.
I missed you.
I’m sorry.
Emily Tucker | @happyemily93
Emily is a primary school teacher based in North London. Lately she spends her days finishing off a book for children, watching Mad Men on repeat and longing for a trip out to Wagamama.