4:43

Tension rises with the steam of spilt coffee in Jen Burrows' poem.

by Jen Burrows

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In the silence that follows,
nothing moves save the steam
rising from the spilt coffee
like spent breath. Heat
from an open wound.

I would like to believe
this is a reprieve
of sorts, but the coffee cools
quicker than the blood
in my cheek, and I know
there can be no going back
when we both feel
we have said too much.



Jen Burrows
| @girlglitch

Jen works in TV drama, writing poetry behind the scenes. She’s also a music blogger, bookworm and feminist fuelled by green tea.