When you levelled our lunch with an explosion of salt,
we had something else.
you posed and I was hungry.
You washed my hair twice just to be on the safe side,
one of us chose the hibiscus,
I could smell it on a bubble’s shining cheek.
You let me wear your famous red dress,
I used it to spill drinks with.
How did I do? Was I a fraction of you?
That great bursting powder puff,
A vast cloud thick with sugar dust,
I stood guard to it while you slept.
You were an era that stretched out to the width of a waistband,
I unpacked my suitcase and sold your things unkindly.
Once I saw a picture of you in another climate,
wearing my purple something I didn’t know I’d lost.
You looked at ease then.
Katie Mcilroy is a young British poet living in Norway. She began writing poetry in 2018 and has since performed at several open mics in Manchester, Oslo and online. Her poems centre largely around the natural world, influenced by the work of John Keats, Sylvia Plath and William Blake.