I know this is love. It has the immediate warmth of a telepathic connection, like when conjoined twins use their own language. We can try positions no-one’s dreamt of, dance to hold music in our hallway, collect vintage furniture from yellow pages. Our child will be a miracle, with your glowing eyes and my strong hips. Tell me all of your concerns, and I’ll translate to strangers. I’ll walk you to the shore of an unnamed country at any sign of homesickness, and we’ll expect your relatives over the silver line of sky, find their white crafts in the morning air, drifting like a feather from a pillow, flashing reluctant goodbyes and hopeful hellos.
I am a recent graduate of English with Creative Writing from Goldsmiths College, University of London. Much of my poetry centres on the themes of ageing, fragility of relationships and our relationship with nature. I have previously been published in Abstract Magazine.