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Image by Jacalyn Beales


the madrigal, volume ii

the house

by aimee macdonald

the day I returned after seven years away

I rearranged my parent’s laundry cupboard

something to do, something to prove

swaddle me in white again

fresh smelling sheets, baby

I’m an adult now, look

folding squares into squares into squares into squares

and my small single bed’s brightness, calling:

tuck me back in again

remember when you could fold yourself up nice and tight and slide into the corner of your room

between the bedside table and the stacks of books

and you would drape their double duvet sheets in between two towers and close your eyes. you close your eyes once more

briefly, and you think

maybe I’ll read, if I sneak in again

I will definitely have dreams

of futures with a past I’ll return to

just to say hello and fold the sheets

Aimee (she/her) is an English Literature student and writer based in Glasgow who spends the majority of her free time reading and writing poetry and short stories. She likes anything fantastical, specifically feminist retellings of ancient myths and creepy fairy tales, and often draws these classical and historical interests into her own work, with a focus on mental health and the body. She aims to write the strange, nostalgic, evocative and occasionally uncomfortable. She is published in GUM and Prickly Pear Magazine, and posts her poetry and some spoken word on her Instagram blog (@writingaimee).

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