Poetry by Foy Timms Ceaseless & My Night as a Scar on Your Chin

Ceaseless

The moon is stapled to the night sky.
He is lying carefully across each memory.
Salvaging a winter of tenderness
before the street shrinks.
Her face perpetually recurring.
Ceaseless.
When apparitions of touch escape thinly onto tomorrow.

 

 

My Night as a Scar on your Chin

I abandon my belongings on your chest,
to climb your craggy chin-cliff,
my arms tenacious in their endeavour.
I clasp your jutting jawline,
my urchin limbs pulling upwards.

I lie unpacked on your face,
reclining and rolling over,
decadent in blistering heat,
nearing your mouth and its disasters within.

I retreat from your ruinous voice haunts,
leaving a scar as I descend.

Foy Timms is a poet/writer based in Reading, Berkshire, U.K. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Hypnopomp, Merak Magazine, North of Oxford, Peeking Cat Poetry, Pulp Poets Press and Twist in Time, among others. She is preoccupied with themes such as British towns/villages and the sociopolitical dimensions of living spaces. 
Twitter: @FoyTimms

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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