Today was the anniversary of my husband’s funeral.Someone had said she’s stay overnight.When we came home here she said
You don’t want me to stay,do you?
So I said,no
Then they went and I sat here alone,it was very hot.Everything seemed unreal like a Play.
I kept thinking it would revert to normal but there is no normal then
Every night my husband came, he clutched my hand and made me run
Run, run, we must find the car, he kept urging me.Unlike in real life I could run in the dream
Round every corner was another corner, then another
we never found the car park
That went on for a month.
After that we spent a week cleaning the cooker together in silence
With steel scourers.
The oven is a womb, the fire that keeps life going
It can be otherwise, of course.Bring death.
Then he told me he had bought me a new house in Ealing
Draw your own conclusions