by Emma Simington
“I’m. Coming down there” A pillow shaped rabbit chews fanning grasses. A wild peacock, dull, fantailed plucks dumbwood 'sects. “Please please please stay alive” Plumed lettuces, subtle airweeds. A lengthy, staunch hare chews exploded stars; silty, decaying leaves. “On the way” Roman willow sprigs as bookmarks, unpressed: narrowly fanning, genial (of genes). “Please stay alive” My cosmic sister. Toddler-chalk drawn into loam. Her eyes in-lit, perpetual, coin tossed, and waning. “This is me telling you (who has fallen Reverential, pickled light, necks usurping, no limbs left. We morph into pepper vines. Our life cycle asleep), that I’m going to borrow ur requires an underwater room. a dancing woman coated in sun, fighting without knuckles clocking faces with seashells: headphones to listen to my audiobook.” blood-letting, chin resting in the crook. Poetry burst from Emma Simington during childhood. She writes to love and to cope.
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January 2025
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