Parting the Waves
you will not see me, furrowing my chest
over the price of dandelion-leaves. in the
reeds i caught a fish, scaling the depths of
egypt. the next day it vomited salt.
at nights i write to you, and wake up
on fire, ruptured in the sea-tress beneath
your thigh. the walls swim sometimes
with unknown potential.
you keep a string within your
back, a taut wire set to monkey
hand-claps — i can see it through
your spine. unspool.
sometimes your eyes are
a heron-fleet guided through
a vacuum. moses wept his way
to exile, we swam there on a whaleheart.
bring your breath back to me. the
darkness has been sacked, curtains
lit. no-moon is a bone. dogs chase their
brains. the night smarts & blinks out.
Nathaniel King is a Creative Writing student from UEA, Norwich. He currently resides in Ontario, Canada where he is completing his undergraduate degree and working on his first poetry collection. More writing can be found at askingthedust.tumblr.com
Nathaniel's work is featured in Elbow Room Vol Six