Our Love — Sharon Van Etten

the women stood outside discussing who would be married first their sequins shone in the rain the smoke from their cigarettes filled the small courtyard luckily there was no ceiling glass or otherwise so it drifted upwards like a smoke signal thin at the end fat at the top puffing wide into a cloud a small estuary into the river of smog that hangs above london below the planes below the clouds still above the trees but only just its slowly pushing down the hydraulic press of pollution punctuated by pockets of breath over the parks and the wide open expanses but held together by the veins of the toxic bayou a moth eaten ozone layer like the jacket i had worn camel brown mohair or wool it has hot cross buttons dangling off thread hoops six or eight in total it is double breasted extra stylish extra large extra warm with deep pockets like its former owner handing it down early i struggle to fill the wide shoulders but my feet were always bigger than his

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