LOVE Poem: DEFINED, by Nick Higginson

There’s no wedding bouquet, no hook for shared house keys,
Just the tug and pull of dirt’s magnetic lines.
Despite the purple puff of tired eyes
The evening stands tall, as
Up and down fingers run
Along hidden steps that mark the sweated, day-heavy spine.

As if a crumbling shed burnt down,
The ashes scoured, harvested for nails,
Each night those trickles of silver, handled
Just so,
Pin me back up and I’m brand new,
And I’m brand new, and I’m

A heart figure, burning
Just so,
Whilst we rage and beat
And hunger and sleep,
Until waking early morning,
Our singular shadow throws itself around the room.

We separate throughout the day,
And I’m moving towards another night
With you in darkness.
A darkness where you clot your ink
In spaces shaken, and once shook,
They become that darkness in which
You see through touch.

Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film. View all posts by poetryfest