Poem by Rebecca Took // Photograph by Ida A
with buttercup sincerity
she told you she was certain.
you cling with all your mind
to her black and green eyes,
and wipe clean red electric life tries;
silver mapping blue vein lines.
kiss close those fear swollen skies;
blue bruises bloodshot from naked cries.
swollen breaths shake her naked
in the cold stone sunk-basin. fat
plait falling short down a bone
stretched back. each space between cries.
she’s got static in her stomach
and a nosebleed on the way;
the sickness comes in april.
she’ll be gone by may.[share]