• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 12
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Time for a visit

I have a tree taller than my house my neighbour has a fish pond but my mother has a loft.

Home to tin trains and a dead puppet, text books markered with unpaid bills and glitter that cut my throat.

Home to signed footballs, Beetles vinyl and a nicked vintage chair.

My mother has a loft, ripe for conversion.

I have many words growing on my tall tree,
time now to lay them out in the right order.