Dancing

We are only ever as happy

as the last text message we received.

The onomatopoeia of angst.

Good dreams are on the top floor

and we’re standing in the basement, forced to accept

the lift might be broken.

The night before I tell her I love her

I sit on my settee with my arms around a cushion

watching Strictly Come Dancing.

Everyone looks beautiful on this show.

Claudia Winkleman is very good at her job

and the director in the booth must be happy with the lighting.

They’ve all been practising for this all week,

perfecting the precision of each step, glance and smile.

A choreographer with nice hair stands at the side to watch,

a thank-you present from her niece in the dressing room.

On the way to the train station I walk past a removal van.

7.30 on a Sunday morning, While I am on my way to tell her

people are rearranging their whole lives.

We never stop sorting through things.

It's a life’s work, choosing the right paintings for our walls.

I’d never really known how to do this kind of thing.