by Roz Weaver


Sunday Worship

The morning’s sermon comes to me
like a tender revelation
softened by your touch;
we are the miracle awakened
you are the sanctified
I am the enraptured
oh how we fell asleep in love.

*

Raising Hell

If it waters you down
yet does nothing to quench your thirst
leave
it is putting out your fire
when your passion
should not be diluted or suffocated
but instead
baptised in flames.

 


Roz Weaver | @undercompulsionpoetry

Roz is a poet based in the North of England who started writing in 2017 and performing in 2018. She has been published in A Catalogue of Failure and is due to be printed in Further Within Darkness and Light published by Nothing Books in June 2018.

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