Two bottles of wine down, I stumbled
into Tesco, ran my fingertips along the shelves
looking for a note between the bottles or something
which would tell me what to do, how to stop
the colours of the limes and lemons popping out
and the sound of the tills, something in the bagging area
I looked down, and it was me, crouched there,
like in an incubator, maybe waiting for someone to
pick me up and take me home, an unexpected item,
then got up: those first steps to the automatic doors,
someone outside saying something through them,
their mouth moving. I couldn’t hear them.
Image credit: Chrisloader via Creative Commons
