Boat trip



Over the bridge, 

summer’s flies descend 

in some heavy storm. 

Clouds of sprites

buzzing against a June sunset. 

The sky and her patterns

pinch at my neck

The sting is sweet, 

my cheeks ache.

The world turns 

and you are my mirror. 


You are my mirror

and nothing matters. 

Nothing matters […] except how the ivy swarms up the riverbank, how laughter sits heavy on my chest



except how the ivy 

swarms up the riverbank, 

how laughter sits

heavy on my chest.

how her eyelashes lie

against flashes of colour

rose tinted cheeks 

river hued irises.

I lean my head back 

catch the kisses

thrown from the bridge 


I know this place so well. 

This place barely knows me at all.


Illustration by Isobel Warwick

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