My expectancy is both-sided,
one surface joy and the other
obliterate. I miss you from my
lungs to the bottom of my
bare feet. The daylight
pools on the wood, still
sticky-damp from the varnished
coat you gave it, cursing; your
hair repeatedly scrubbed behind
an ear. I breathe it in,
that little bubble of
anticipation in my chest.
---
Molly Eyre (no relation to Jane) is a UK based poet with a fondness for friendship, fun, and alliteration.
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