Collage by Sadie Souter, using images from Pexels and Pixabay
Deja Vu You feel like déjà vu We skim pebbles and Watch them sink It feels like living twice
One day will we forget all this? The taste of the salt and the sand And the drowning moon I’ll write it all down
A name that tastes like home The shell from the beach that hangs at the crook of your neck A box of ragged old letters
Morning calls, taste the dawn I smooth the crease on your brow Crawl under covers, a linen womb And tell me about that dream again
Everything smells so still Like dust settling the clock on the mantelpiece is broken
I can’t tell where I end, and you begin My hand. Your hand The pebble flies It feels like living twice.
Succession The swimming moon treads water Sending ripples across the sky We throw caution to the wind Drink it all in. Tiptoe on the brink of time
Yesterday you held it close A tiny sliver of light Tomorrow a new moon will rise Together we can taste the dawn
The taste that promises all and none To do with as we choose Reaching out further than skin As if we weren’t made of bones
Made of moonlight and air The drowning moon surfaces for breath Smoothing the creases on our foreheads We curl up in the womb of the night
Whispering secrets and tales of time I don’t want to move Because the world is so still. I listen And listen to the heartbeats of kin
The spluttering cry of a new-born An old man’s rattling breath The sound of our mothers and fathers So, we’ll stay here
Cocooned by the soaring moon Away from the ravages of time.
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