Venus stands in Primavera
and the plane loops back again,
the crimson banner shaking
out love like pluming sparrows;
Days are night-bruised; under spotlight sun –
deep yellow and beaming
against the pavement and
every time unexpected.
I hear the smash of a wine bottle;
malbec stains fragrant on tongues.
On my walk home it hangs from willow trees,
over pools like mirrors. I see you
in them, your wordless chants in my ears,
the fingers that reach out to me over frozen grass;
my pink subconscious.
People on hot walks taking photographs
with dogs sprinting; legs kicking away from
the path behind them. Unconscious change.
Life strained to seasons in orbit.
It swims in my coffee mug
and I watch as it turns cold. Shiver.
It lingers like a grenade. I let it.
Somewhere in self-doubt
there is a gaze unearthing / pruned petals in hands / Zépherine soft
/ skin under a scab / my own defined holiness / a patch of grass
dented with my hips / waiting for me to lie down with it again /
Cherimoya / power in eyes / power in heart / power in mind / the
oysters’ gold and silver lips / kissing me / stars, upright / a
reminder / in harmony with / the next stroke of night air
Emily J Helen is an English Literature student, writer and poet. Appointed as Young Poet Laureate for Coventry and Warwickshire in 2017, she is presently creating and compiling poetry for her first collection.
Recently, she was featured as the ‘chosen poet’ for Marble Poetry Magazine’s broadsheet; her work has also been published in Turnsol Editions’ anthology Florilegium