honey monger, the porous exchange of your scent
defibrillates my youth.
how I remember the quick breaths,
the sudden shafts of light,
appearing between my fingertips
as I tried not to watch you swim naked, dive.
you were a shooting minnow, so white the arrow!
the spread of blood followed,
curled up like a question mark –
but I didn’t understand the question.
not even when they dragged you out.
foxy like a wild thing
froth from swallow’s breath,
deep gulps of duckweed, river-water
lotus eater –
lungs piping, branches which bore dark fruit.
the crackling cassette tapes,
our harmonies blow through the synapses
this wind making the memories clean, indelible,
all these years later.
guitar scooped in your arm
cupping me like a ladle,
it was a song sung
so
innocently.
see? it lives in me, your frozen valentine,
in my waters.
the raft, the boot, the bicycle,
your funeral.
by Sara-Mae Tuson - Sara-Mae Tuson has had work published in a wide range of magazines and anthologies, and was long-listed for the Short Fiction Award in 2014. She is a freelance editor and copy-writer, and is currently with the Blake Friedmann Literary Agency, working on her debut novel.