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Emma Elisabeth Wood
Poems
Mar 2014
Fishtail
I remember braiding hair
at the mouth of the river,
golden strings weaving
between my fingers
legs stretched roughly
across long grass, the
itch of it spreading
under our cotton
dresses
I imagine, the waves
washing over my face
as I swim down consuming
the deep black drop
of nothingness,
as I cover my ears
to the roars
of planes,
turn my guts away
from the motion
of a boat
I listen,
to the beat of
your heart as I thread
strand over strand
and pull
Written by
Emma Elisabeth Wood
F/UK
(F/UK)
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