Page 58 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #2

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Brighton
Darling, I‘ve got a plan. Let’s go to Brighton. We need some girl-time in the salty air, chip-fat and rain like perfume in our hair. Let’s set the clocks rattling back like wheels
out of Victoria, and light up Vogues
like wide-eyed students with new-minted loans we think we won‘t pay back. Let’s go to Brighton and dance on bars, a pair of lairy aunties
in purple glitter. Let’s laugh like we used to, chicken out of getting tattoos,
sleep off hangovers in the faded roses
of B&Bs. Let’s gather up the stones
as night comes down, the sea’s forgetful blues rolling over our emails, traffics, tubes, husbands and lovers, everything we do
that gets between us being me and you.