Heatwave
One sticky glass-still midsummer
Drone of cicadas and blackbird song
I found you in our old garage
Doorway hot with blood orange rust
Amongst the bindweed and Hornsea cups
Thick grey air, the quiet ripple
I would
Step into a harsh held breath
I found you there. I found you.
You bound my wrists with ivy vines your
Thickened rope limbs strong as elm
Marlborough Light behind your ear
I let you peel away another layer
Of my jellyfish flesh
I let you split my ribcage and
I let you hold my sacred heart in your
Nicotine stained hand
You were a terrible, gravitational pull
One shard of glass secret in my palm
Florence Hutchinson (she/her) is a writer and artist living in West Yorkshire. She draws inspiration from the vulnerabilities of motherhood/womanhood, the natural world, folklore and memory fragments. Her work has appeared in Motherlore magazine, Atticus Literary and In a Land zine. Florencehutchinson.substack.com