Like mending a cheap, torn dress
Hoping to get more wear out of
Your love
Now dated, threadbare
Neither flattering nor protecting
I am bursting and muscular, this love dress
No longer fits or suits
Later tonight, I will tear it to rags
And clean the oven
I do like love stories grounded in domestic details – this has a devastating ache to it Eleanor xx
Love a good angry female poem! (They’re my favourite actually 😉) Great stuff, Eleanor.