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In Poetry on February 9, 2010 at 10:00 pm

These words were forgotten and found and cut up
On strips and sheets and folds
Of paper lining
Lanes and avenues and streets.
When I had finished stitching, I read:

Don’t leave
Because maybe
The train leaves at
That time you told me
And I think I forgot –
Buy milk.

Helen Dring lives in Liverpool with a dog who likes to eat books. She has work at Six Sentences, Four and Twenty and Declaration Publishing. Visit her website.