I am an amalgam
of all the women who have gone before me.
The desk I sit at
is no-one’s, really
but Sarah once used it.
My emails are sent by
Theresa@domain, who I’ve never met
and signed by Wendy – Accounts
who I have.
My stapler belongs to
Photocopy Area
So does, at times, the clear half of my desk
beside the machine
And lately
I find myself writing
with a pen labelled “Abbi’s”
(My Word docs are
Authored By Mark,
whoever he was)
I move, and I become Mel —
her chair, her phone,
her emails, her grit —
but only for the evening shift
Or Tracey
with the contracts
and that temp girl,
whatsername again?
And perhaps when I am gone
some brave soul will sit
here
She’ll open a doc named /templaterachel
and for a time
she’ll be me, too.