Was the title of my first poem
I wrote it on the toilet
Last night's moonlit white sink
Reminded me of that
Black glass poem
With its 'haphazard hem'
Where is that dressing-gown now?
Quilted turquoise and embroidered lapels
It wasn't that old and haphazard was it?
How is it possible to misplace a whole gown?
It suited me, too, if memory serves.
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