Nearly see-through curtains and a
blue flowery bed
A mirror by your feet and a shelf
above your head
A pile of books upon the desk and
flags up from Nepal
Discarded clothes lie on the floor
and faces on the wall
A rug with fraying edges lies
beneath a mound of shoes
And a player in the corner drowns
out your midweek blues
Bottles of lotions and potions sit
atop your chest of drawers
And your towel still damp from
morning hangs on the back of doors
This here room it keeps us safe and
guards us in the night
It keeps the world outside whilst we
use gentle fairy light
To mess up our eyebrows and trace
smiles in each other’s cheeks
To pretend we don’t have shit to do
and lie in that bed for weeks
It was in that room I fell in love with
the girl who loves to cook
Who puts her soul into writing be it
article or book
Who holds pure sunlight in her smile
and summer in her hair
And leaves a shirt that smells like
her for me when she’s not there
We danced slow circles in low light
to delicate melodies
Watched awful TV shows with pizza
balancing on our knees
Laughed and cried joked and sang
that room has seen it all
And I knew it would always welcome
me whenever I came to call
This here room it kept us safe ’til we
needed it no more
You emptied out the cupboards and
locked the dark wood door
But it’s etched into our memory and
so there will always be
A part of this little room inside the
hearts of you and me
Photo courtesy of Annie Spratt