treasure: new sheets

I've been quiet this week- because I've been packing to move house.

I have a new bed, new sheets and a new room- a place where only I have been, a fresh start. 

It's pretty exciting. 

poem: moving house

I'm packing up my things again

and I have to marvel (nothing else to be done) 

that

3 months after the fact

I'm still finding your shit everywhere.

Still tidying up after you,

even though you left the fucking country.

(happily) This time I'm not crying over your old shoebox.