after the heat the storm

A new poem by Andrew McMillan.

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descending into the honeycomb cities
I am returning to the ground
already wetted by the transient rains

all the windows of our house are wide open

climbing the stairs is like reaching
my face into the fridge
the bedroom is alive with your breathing

the clattering teeth of the blinds

outside   the night is perfectly tuned
the slow forcing of the plum trees and their fruit
buzz of motorbikes on the road

undressing to land beside you      all night

the winds come over us    like intermittent water
Ben   I am not sure what I mean by this
but I’ll spend my lifetime coming home to you

Andrew McMillan’s second collection, playtime, was published by Jonathan Cape in 2018.

This article appears in the 02 August 2019 issue of the New Statesman, Summer special