It felt like a nakedness to see you
in the corner shop, wearing those shorts
I had sometimes put on accidentally
in the mornings. That early, my words
were still slurred with sleep and ourlegs
had been soofteninterchangeable. Wakeup,
I’d say, finding a new kind of courage
in your pockets; the sloped hem
of the thigh. Given half a chance
it might still be night. Thebirds stirred
and the pink sky offered a pale bead
of thesunorthemoon. Wakeup,
I’d say, shaking your arm. You’vegot toseethis.
______________
Imogen Cooper has recently finished an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Birmingham. Her work can be found in 14 Magazine, Ink Sweat & Tears, and The Broken Spine.