by Kirstie McHale

I was worried there
for a while
about if you had gone
and been replaced by somebody else
walking around in your body
like very committed fancy dress

But this morning
fucking in our bed
among the detritus
of coffee tramping magazines vegan yoghurt in stoneware bowls
when I look
into your eyes
I realise you were there all along

in our steamy greenhouse cell
of a bathroom
I say you have stripes on your back
from my nails
like a sexy zebra
You raise your hands up
and gargle mouthwash
like a worshipper possessed
by devotion to dental hygiene

And I think we are going to be OK.

Kirstie McHale | @saltyourcoffee

Kirstie McHale grew up on the South Coast of England, fell in love with tramping in the mountains of Te Waipounamu, and now lives, writes and works in education in ?tautahi Christchurch, Aotearoa New Zealand.  

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