by Emilia L.

Sometimes all I crave is silence.
There is ease in the absence of noise.

Sometimes a chair after a busy shift
For my heavy legs under a table
Holding a cold drink
while I sweat out the excited night
is bliss.

Sometimes a hot water bottle,
Soothing the screaming ovaries
bleeding the energy out of me,
is the only thing
keeping the curses in.

Sometimes I wake before sunrise
With a cat on my chest,
Sleeping heavy like love.
That quiet exists
To claim myself before all the others.

 


Emilia L. | @booky_snackerson

Emilia is a bookseller who ended up in London years ago after graduating from a merchant navy and doing a tour on a fair trade sailing ship (she swears this is true), whose life is built around reading and liquorice, writing poems and having endless appreciation for contact juggling.

 

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