Independence week

I remember that week,
When both my parents went away,
And you came to stay-
My little lodger.

Suddenly we were dreaming in colour,
Ablaze with perpetuated imagination.
Fallen amongst the leaves of clothing
Scattered on my bedroom floor.

I remember our hearts sinking at emptiness of the fridge
and the intrepid adventure to Co-Op,
Perusing the light summer streets while we prowled
As if we were already searching through the aisles - eyeing up the wares.

Ferocious animals on the hunt;
Hungry teenagers prickling with starvation.

That enormous Yorkshire Pudding at 50p
The 3 tins of chilli & baked beans
Spicy potato wedges and sausages
I can still smell the cheap labels,
I can still see the slimy photographs on them.

The Challenge?
Eat it all, inside the bowl of batter.

I can remember the spine breaking ache,
Our stomachs bowing and stretching
To accomodate the weight of 1785 calories,
Although it wasn't as if we cared.
Because we had done it.

And even if Coronary Heart Disease came bounding
into the room
on the back of a rhinoceros,
And gloated in our faces
That our arteries were lined with fat
And our hearts were turning to white, hard gristle
We would have laughed...

I recall the independence of that week,
The social silence and isolation
(Because we turned our phones off, remember?)
I can hear the 16 angry messages
From our bereft, ignored parents.

And we slept at night,
Like we were encased inside a womb.
Your neat chest hot against my back,
A soft cheek on my neck and
Sweet breathe in my ear.

I remember the liberating freedom,
The waking up at 12.30 in the afternoon,
And realising that we'd missed school-
AGAIN.

It was the sensation of being full,
Feeling enriched by your presence,
The voluptuous conversation and
pregnant silences that still teemed with life.

It was an electric week,
The eclectic week
The week that you were my lodger.