That was fun, we should do it again sometime



That was fun, we should do it again sometime

We pass the spitting stone
The Heart of Midlothian
And I should know all about it
But don’t, so you
tell me a story of you
age four, stood, stuck and
crying in spit.

Honest story for a second date,
or just enough to feel let in?

Whisky stains
the inside of me;
a honey glow for good.

Our street curves
past lit pillars
paired in loneliness.

You stop to say
You’re funny.
In a good way?
In a good way.

And there you were,
Perched on the edge
But that’s just that.
A past subjunctive,
A verb lost.
Ever with an “n”.


Clare Dolan usually writes about Highland tours as she works for a Scottish travel company. However, when she isn’t working she likes to write poems, eat fine cheeses and watch murder documentaries. She recently had a poem published in Severine Lit & Art Journal.

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