Magnolia

Magnolia walls,

all four and counting,

breathe with us now,

they know us now,

so much so

our skin begins to match:

a canvas

on which you compare me

to every fruit the supermarket

did not have, every flower

you haven’t seen,

every sunset discoloured

by the evening news.

Just magnolia is left,

off white and boarded

by the skirting we’ve dusted

more times than we’ve kissed

in the last seven days.


Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Signed copies on Etsy

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