
‘creature, my creature!’ the alchemist speaks
convection / no conviction
his words turn to rust
here we stand in the silence
that comes
after the foetus
leaves the womb
to hold hands with this

no, wait while i

search for myself in the pages of this old book
linger in the church
fingers entwined like rope
like Lilith and Eve
falling , loving, hoping
while the wood worm
make their marks
and the dust
mites sing a Kyrie rie rie rie
roses decay and light widows
on the last page of the altar
a vigil, a death watch
creaking Mother, Mother, …
how much can we call
this moment
still born
& still
the night sky derivative
her painted lips
a mediation
a quick-tongued Madonna
Eve speaks
& Eve speaks
the riptide, the chine
in the coastline
& Lilith speaks
& Eve breathes words
metaphors like ‘cuttlefish’
in her ear, a conch
in the sea, the sea
Sarah Cave @campanilecave is a poet, critic and editor of Guillemot Press. She lives in a wood in Cornwall. Her publications include like fragile clay(Guillemot Press, 2018), An Arbitrary Line (Broken Sleep Books, 2018) & Perseverance Valley (Knives, Forks and Spoons, Forthcoming)
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