“Inside Out Pockets”

She’s not looking for anything in particular
Except for the bits and pieces stuffed inside pockets
Tight little paper balls
That don’t rattle or roll
Forgotten inside the blackness of a mini universe

Home amid the chinking pennies
Dust settles over famous faces
Immortalised inside pockets
Tills
Places of darkness

These darkened spaces exist inside her mind
Amongst speckled shades of grey
Dust gathering dwellers
The faces from her past

Dust everywhere
Covering everything
Particles that cling to memories
Faces from bygones
Veined and grey

In his pocket
The queen’s face
Bubble gum wrappers
Paper clip
The strand of hair

Her hair smelt of lavender and roses
He took it when her back was turned
As she observed the dust outside
Falling from birds wings
From outside the paint chipped window

She always looked closely
Saw the light covering of dust over the city
Glistening specks tumbling under street lights
Proof that angels float amongst us

She’s not looking for anything in particular
Except for worlds inside pockets

Every night when the dust settles
She turns her pockets inside out