After I Went Home (and Took Off My Shapewear)

After I Went Home (and Took Off My Shapewear)

Sometimes my best self is watching motorbikes speed down Warwickshire streets
on TV,
leggings with three holes in,
a four year old hoody,
bottle of wine,
curled up
on my own.

--

Tonight I used my fringe like a helmet,
fidgeted with a necklace,
plaited my hair,
stroked my own leg,
stared at a jar,
wondered what was inside it.

There was a camera dresser
in the corner of the room,.
black, long lenses peered out,
all pristine.
I imagined which brands they were,
how long they'd lived in that room.

There were glass jars
in rows behind your head.
(Each filled and labelled and curious.)
I read, you read, they read.
I laughed on the right queues

but there was disconnect,
body on alert,
unsettled and unable
to calm the internal disquiet.

---

Sometimes my best self is watching motorbikes speed down Warwickshire streets
on TV
in leggings with three holes in,
a four year old hoody.
bottle of wine
curled up
on my own