i attempt to conceal my disgust as you draw your hard, squat body up to the dish of milk.
why? out of politeness?
the same reasons you’d roll from on top of me when the cat came into the bedroom.
hovering, i half expect you to lower a soft black tongue, or even a needle, but instead
you immerse your whole bulbous head. it looks inexact, and messy. i forget sometimes
we’re both new to this.
you lift away and point yourself at me – dark-eyed/somehow accusatory.
i lead you to the bed with a trail of rotting lettuce leaves and hold my body
against your hardened forewings.
you’d laugh if you could see me a quivering believer
draped across the stone of unction
feeling for the word – a lay line –
some way to make things right with Him.
the silence of your over-wintering / anxiety makes your legs bleed /
this bedroom smells of dead leaves.
i cannot sleep on these mattress springs –
deferential to the purring
of your many dormant hearts.
A. K. Blakemore‘s first full-length collection, Humbert Summer, was released by Eyewear in 2015. She currently lives and works in South-East London.