after Emily Blewitt
This is not a rescue.
This one will sting like bees and pomegranate seeds;
Persephone, oval eyes turned upwards to the darkness beading the sky.
This is the beginning of the end, the fall into something new.
This is you – tobacco and loose lips,
my hips and buttercups.
This is not a rescue but sinking, slipping peacefully into blue,
into sadness written across knuckles or wishes found behind ears
like a cheap magician’s coin;
this is everything I have ever wanted.
Drowning but I’m living, swimming – butterfly full of grace
and I want to fly with you.
This is not a rescue.
It is the sea, the firmament, the grave already dug
and lined with poppies,
it is a forever which tastes so much like the here and now.
This is not a rescue.
This is you – bonfire smoke swept pretty
across a pink and purple sky.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
My poetry collections:
Woah❤️
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