my friend’s face is in a pile by the counter
i compulsively reach out to touch it
turn it over      give her some privacy

to observe that this is not what is
usually meant by ‘covergirl’ is on the nose
it’s beside the point
the point is that i miss my friend the point is
i see her everywhere

later       i decide i should buy a copy
maybe one day      i will want it

i go back to the bookshop but she’s not there anymore
no longer the current issue

when bookshops return unsold magazines
they usually just send back the covers
proof that the innards weren’t sold

i imagine friends’ and strangers’ hands
tearing off my friend’s face i imagine
her collected in an office in carlton that i once
went to for a job interview
it’s maybe a 15-minute walk from her home

i had to proofread something about bees

Read the rest of Poetry in Lockdown, edited by Toby Fitch and Melody Paloma

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