Poems Uncategorized

NaPoWriMo 8/30

Ironing Board

I keep this memory in a drawer –

the water creases of your sleeves

still smelt of Sheffield,

puckering in this borrowed bed,

the heavy stitching of my skirt

pooling around our ankles.


After, you counted the fresh grooves

and you slept on the ironing board

to straighten yourself out.

By Charley Genever

Emerging poet from Peterborough addicted to words would like to meet similar minded folk to engage in a poetry revolution.

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