Yes, it is possible to pack intentions,
note the contents of my suitcase. (My figure
has never been modern at all.) Buoyant skirt
and telltale cosmetics, teeth-peeling
grapes in public. I’m on the way,
dressed in an unsophisticated way of thinking –
already I’m deranged with confectionary,
shushed by linens you’re the third of your line to wash.
Tears coat my cheeks like icing on buns.
I twirl my ankles as though everyone’s watching.