Have you got any ID?

by Sofie Fowler

Identify me with you.
Other half, better half,
Anyone other,
Anything better.

Once angelface in love notes under my pillow,
Now slutwhore on sticky notes stuck to the fridge.

Identify ourselves against each other; a title match of lovers.

Once an indexed shoebox, of whispered romance.
Now capital magnets give orders to shout.

Identify yourself.
Name me.
Call it.