She knew that at this moment
she would always have dry feet.
Bathmats would be used properly
and her toes would never touch
cold, wet tiles again. She knew
there’d be no more dragging her body up
and down the stairs in striped sweaters
or scratchy, woolen capes. No more
alpaca standing angry and bitter
by the boiler in winter. She knew
too that this moment meant a new era
of bread tins and magpies, of cotton
swirls and splashes of bright colors.
She could taste courgettes and smell
the dark wood stains. She was now
domestic, and she thought it was time
to buy an apron and an old, steel guitar.
Christina Thatcher holds an MA in Creative Writing from Cardiff University. Her work has recently been published in The London Magazine, Neon and Inkspill Magazine, and is forthcoming in The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts. She is currently working on her first collection of short stories and attempting to order her latest poems into a respectable chapbook. Follow Christina on Twitter: @writetoempower.