Ruth Walters (London, U.K.)

The string unsealed itself,
the little stick-on flower fell.
The paper unwrapped around the box
that hung open now…..

The shop keeper's hand fell loose
and money slipped from hers to mine
as she retrieved the gift
I'd bought.

I reversed, drifting, floating
all the way down the street
along with all the other
plebs that night.

My house lights came on
as I backed into the hallway
and my make up slid off
as I regurgitated tea

that filled my teacup up
and as I dropped on to the bed
my clothes hung themselves in the wardrobe
and I fell asleep in the moonlight,

asleep per chance to dream