Poetry by Lauren Thomas

                 ​ricky shore CC



Reflections
​
Time sits with a book. The season
Outside is rain. The roses are slept
And we must all be dressed by noon

Your blue collision 
and sun-blast sends me scattered
into gull-flung air

Time listens for the sound, when the hush of warm
Air is cloying in the gut. On slow mind days
The snap will come that opens your red voice.

The gasp of you on a bluster day
pulls at my hair, 
you roll me over

I check for signs of damage in the shower. 
The breasts are wrong. I should have had
Them taken off. I leave them in a drawer for the estate

I climb inside you, wade into your uprush, 
brace for our attrition 
am left floating in you for days

Voicing is a stretch - time needs a stitch. I can mitigate
And clip it with soft breath. Am I too old to feed it 
Blood and birth it to the page? Or do I send it down in rain?

I listen for the others caught in your teeth
we are distanced. 
your tidal paths, desire lines

My high arched pain, crouches low, time bathes an earnest
Wound with rage. I am learnt in flagrant shadow. 
All at once it is the noon and I am fully clothed ​

Lauren Thomas’ most recent writing is in The Crank Literary Magazine, Briefly Zine, Re-side Magazine, Abridged and Green Ink Poetry. She has poetry forthcoming or  in several anthologies including; Dreich’s Summer Anywhere anthology, Songs of Love and Strength by TheMumPoemPress, The Nine Pens Hair-Raising anthology and The Faces of Womanhood by Blood Moon Journal.
 l[email protected]

Twitter @laurenmywrites

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