Dried honey stains the dress she no longer wears,
limp in a dark cupboard underneath the stairs.
Abandoned dreams left hanging to dry,
louvre doors curtail the view of passers-by.
Conversations remembered, but then forgot,
reliving days of somebody she was not.
The party season comes and goes, comes and goes.
Haylet reminisces: Was this what she chose?
Capability Red September 2020
