There it all is again, the tiles, the window sill, bits and bobs lying around, a tap dripping into the bath, a mirror surfaced bathroom cabinet with a door ajar... in the morning light there is less romance, ha! Romance? Not what you’re thinking. I mean everything is so pedestrian. Everything looks kind of ugly in the blue grey spray through the window at dawn.
My home is very much my own home. There is something through these unslept eyes that likes it here. Likes the kind of lifestyle, staring into the sink, remembering every drink, in turn. Scrubbing them off my teeth.
