I watched the rain fall
to the ground
and my flat was the caravan
I cut my lip shaving in for the first time.
The carpet was a water-logged 18-yard box.
The taps were the River Forth.
I watched the rain fall
to the ground
and it was a billion teardrop shaped people.
It was me. I was falling
to the ground
until I ran my fingertips across the stiff arms
of the sofa and reintroduced my feet
to the warm floorboards.

© Carl Burkitt 2020