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.