I was in the hungry push
of a kiss when it happened
a bench beneath us
my face sheltered in her hands the same way
that you hold me, base of palm against jaw against rib
press of tongue and tooth and hedgerows
She tells me this as we lie in her room
naked on the duvet. A breeze is arriving
to cool our bodies, and her head rests
in the crook of my shoulder. My hand
strokes her hair as she talks
and something catches my attention
the movement is a man
watching in that press of hedgerows
suddenly in focus, and
my eyes are drawn down
to the slight jingle of a metal buckle
the twin flapping tails of an open belt
a bird-flesh shock of skin
I want to press backwards
into her story, wrap that thick yellow scarf
|of her’s around them. Let this open
into a path we can leave on. A trespass on
the silence drawing out this moment.
I want to be the other woman on the bench,
the hedge, the man.
The formatting for this poem may break on some screens, so a PDF version is available.
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Autumn Sharkey (they/them) s a writer of prose and poetry based in North London, UK. They are a creative writing facilitator and researcher currently completing an MA in Creative Writing & Education at Goldsmiths University. @autumn_sharkey
Such a strong opening, Autumn, & I was drawn in by the juxtaposition of tender & discordant images. I’m so enjoying the pieces in this issue – like a roaming conversation on masks & identity. Thrilled to be a contributor!