Prose & Poetry

welcome home, starling

you are safe now

A Habitat of Sky

A Habitat of Sky

The lisping decision had Saturn’s diameter,

pirouetting lines that lacked in matter,

looping on seven sets of rings

dividing the night with expensive silver.

Her clasping evades the sense of space

stretching the cemetery length of green,

biding the morning in careful futures

unwilling to prise the chime from a scream.

How lovely the secret insect seems,

dragonfly colours gemmed to her neck;

a sapphire blue for the first remainder,

kisses that thicken on glossier lips

to glaze the skin with lapidary blackness,

elaborate as a solstice

hung among chunks of tapestry fat

with graceless silhouettes. The spittles

of thread lift her delicate head,

spread those wings on a gossamer

dawn of pink and blue, frailer hues

to settle the endless web, lilting

as if as if as if. There’s a glitch

cracking the china handle, a vertigo

sense of pastoral expanse, the meadows

braided with varying destiny.

 

Maria Sledmere currently studies for an MLitt in Modernities at the University of Glasgow. When not puzzling over dark ecology for her dissertation, she co-edits SPAMzine, writes music reviews for RaveChild and GoldFlakePaint and mourns the golden days when she could play trombone. She has had work published in the likes of DataBleed, From Glasgow to Saturn, GUM, Thistle Magazine and Quotidian Magazine. You can read about her rambles on everything from Derrida to Lana Del Rey at: http://musingsbymaria.wordpress.com 
Thomasson kiss

Thomasson kiss

Colpo D’ala (From Above)

Colpo D’ala (From Above)