As If Through Stillness. Poem by Livi Topley

The same can be said for the woman,
who we undoubtedly found asleep on
the floor of our bathroom.
She had toothpaste in her hair, the colour
of the tiles above her.
And you were tired and I was
half asleep, finding it hard to
work out why she was there
or what it all meant.
We stood in the doorway, looking it
and gawping through the space where
a wall might have been.
And the drip of the tap was stumbling
down
the
pipes
to our kitchen.
She lay still. Had a face like a barbie doll,
plastic fantastic with staggers of blonde
right down to her waist.
The cold tile rested on her cheek, to pull
down her face and make sure she
couldn't leave us. Again.
We watched the red from her lips mark
the surface of the floor, as if through stillness
she had awoke.