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