one pound man

Dear Editor,

my love, she married a doctor. she moved to a street with trees and a number. she needs no moon there, she gets no power cuts. smart home systems and a dim boudoir.

but light subtracts here where she’s left. i hold a hollow that was once her breath. i rest my head on all the missing parts and search the streets for a broken vow.

i  bring a one pound note up against a wall until it shadows. i hold it up before a billboard dream of a home with trees and a number. i lay it down on a table, and watch it float.

                                                                                                                                             sincerely,

                                                                                                                                             one pound man