Photo by kruder369.


She was kind – still I wished I hadn’t called her
(we’d been out together only twice)
in those first moments after I’d been told
my grandmother had died. We’d just been chatting,
yet it felt wrong putting such old,
experienced feelings next to ones so fresh.

At midnight on our third and final date
I stepped inside her Edwardian conversion
to find a stripped-pine, bookless space complete
with kitchen like an operating theatre,
bathroom more a boutique marble quarry
and something too near horror at the thought

that she could live like this, unstoried, bar
a silk dressing gown, floral and antique,
I noticed as I closed the bedroom door
and grasped, then, like the answer to all grief,
all absence, till the sleeve ran through my fingers
like fine, unsunned sand as I reached for her.

Richard Meier’s debut collection, Misadventure, was published by Picador in March 2012.



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