The rain pours, but I taste the sunlight of the earth on my cherry tongue. Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally
Tag: poem
More than I can say
I love you like soft petals on skin like the crackle of an open fire like the glitter of winter and cold night like bubbles in champagne and whispers on the wind I love you more than I can say than I can wish to pour into words other than the three I know so … Continue reading More than I can say
Banshee
I know you want me to run - screaming into the hills like the banshee I am in all of your paintings hung in a gallery of shame; each one titled ‘self-hate’. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally
Thunder & cyclamen
The sweetpea and cyclamen look resplendent in the thunder: catching the lightning as they sway in the breeze of fallen leaves and rain. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally
Sunday: morning coffee
I woke to the rain painting the windows; abstract polka dots and rivers. I woke to the silence of sleep, your body beside me, wrapped in cotton sheets; your breath whistling to and fro. The rule is: whoever wakes first makes the coffee, so I slip on my dressing gown and my flip flops … Continue reading Sunday: morning coffee
Saturday: on a bench
The afternoon stretched its limbs into the evening, leagues past noon: a sky the texture of candy floss and the colour of a brewing storm. Wind buffeted the waves as the tide retreated far out, slipping away from the estuary and into the ocean’s recesses. Wind buffeted my face, spinning locks of hair … Continue reading Saturday: on a bench
To-do lists
Several days ago, I promised myself I would write more. Prose in particular. I even began by writing ‘write’ on my to-do list (because I write more to-do lists than poems these days). It remains unchecked. A gloomy, dull circle waiting to be ticked; to be acknowledged by my brain fumbling around its inner recesses … Continue reading To-do lists
Point B.
I imagine you see us as a bridge to be crossed. A small adventure from point A to B with no regard for maps or the geography of the land; how my summit reaches higher into the sky, moated round with ravines dressed in jagged edges. You pay no heed to the warning signs. The … Continue reading Point B.
Pink pyjamas
This room holds more than I care to admit; more than I can name or speak of again. It still smells of your skin, of childhood innocence and our pink pyjamas. It is warm; electric even and your breath – in my ear burns and sizzles with both fear and ecstasy. I cannot name you … Continue reading Pink pyjamas
To scold and scald
I scolded myself today; not in the way my Nanny did whenever she battled my knotted hair, but with water as I slid into the bath, a welcome pain I use to escape the chaos of anxious thoughts with shrill voices talking of nothing but doom. I remember the first time I felt myself seared … Continue reading To scold and scald
