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Jan 2017
It could be the comprehensive blow
of short sharp needles to my torso,
or the merciless ache
of looking at a sunflower with one eye shut,
or the unrelenting urgency to walk
the map of another.
there are spaces,
where leaves use to be,
and now afternoon air moves between,
and there are dusty birds,
who flutter to the sound of the rain.
Lily Peacock
Written by
Lily Peacock  29/F/Brighton
     Mark Tilford, --- and Rapunzoll
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