Published by Open Love Letters


"A love letter to Manchester: 

My hometown in a basin,

I used to always write for you. You were the place I hung my hat and my heart and you were always there, in everything I did. You chatted  to me on night buses and you hid yourself in car engines to sing me to sleep, baby baby I kissed you so many times as the sun came up, I kissed you in so many places. I wrote you so many love letters and I hid them all over town. I went away and I came back and you felt different, things happened to me that you never would have let happen before I lost track of your lullabies and I drifted all the way down the M4. I fell in love there too, I'm still in love there, I felt scared to come back to you. When this virus hit, when everybody became homebound and we all flew like backwards birds back to our nests, I didn't want to come. I wrapped up in a duvet and hid from planed in the sky. But my train was small and old and the sun soaked the carriage and by the time I got back to you, unexpectedly, prematurely, dazed and bleary-eyes, you smelt like home again - petrol and big skies and hills you can see through buildings. Now I'm going for walks everyday and the roads where I grew up feel familiar again - not quite safe and squishy yet, but I feel your love between bricks and paving stones. I found an old love letter tucked in a gap in a wall, I want you to know I'm writing for you again. My coat rack is full and my feathered wings are still forever yours and forever mine,

R x"