the blood flows where it pleases

waiting for my love and

suddenly, it is here,

a basket-full of

skintight blueberries,

smiling back at you.

so with god given fury

you shed reluctance

and consumed them all,

stalk by stalk

second by second

bleeding that

pearly gown, as my

ring finger dilates, and

your touch ripens

and the words stain, and our

letters grow green, and i

beg and beg and

1. Throw your smartwatch away. In the hours that follow, your sleep, time, or heart rate will quickly become inconsequential.

2.

3.

4. Tip the lovely cashier lady all of your life savings, then realise that even she doesn’t want it anymore.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9. Dance like no one’s watching.

before your exam

in the first semester of your

grad school a

hundred ladybugs

invaded your room at St Cross

you must have found the whole

situation pretty ridiculous,

really.

if i had been with you then

i would’ve whipped my phone

out and Googled “what is the

percentage chance of seeing a ladybug?”

and found the answer to be:

‘less than 1%’!

(i know, i know. percentages??? you can barely

count!!!)

but trust me.

known so thoroughly

that wanting

becomes unnecessary.

The nectar

that’s yours to keep

but you share it anyway.

The yoghurt already mixed

before I wake up.

The time you carve,

piece by piece,

out of your certainty.

I have been known

so thoroughly that

tomorrow when I wake,

all I want to do is

make breakfast

used to holding your

hand that

I have forgotten that my

fingers were

built for harsher things.

For steel,

For soil,

For pain,

For staying

instead of fleeing.

Who were you?

What are we doing here?

I will wait for you,

tomorrow and perhaps

like you begging

for five more

minutes.

But really,

you’re asking me for

an eternity.

An eternity that you

know I will gladly

give.

Let me count them all,

just once, let me

be irrational.

Maybe if I count all of the pearls so

perfectly I won’t have the

time to leave.

One,

two,

three.

One,

two.

All of our love have been

but a yes or no question.

Will you read me something?

Will you stay by my side?

Will you forgive yourself for loving me?

Will you love yourself for me?

Will you wait?

i will tend to my garden, even

if my favourite flower isn’t there.

and i will bite my tongue before

every euphemism,

cowardly or not

i now believe in reincarnation

and the one before that one?

and the one before that?

no, not just ones with me in them

my darling, I don’t know

how else to say this

everything has been fiction.

in my splintered,

fractured, smokey tangy bitter sweet

state of mind,

we must celebrate!

the asteroids are long

overdue, and

my fingertips have come undone

with your love.

green lights are now all i see,

sitting on the curbside,

running back home,

catching myself

laughing, despite it all,

After Olive Franklin