His tongue between her lips,
she is suffocated by his breathing.
Flocks of umbrellas snap shut in her

as she thinks of the dead flowers
he bought her, the horror of brown,
rotting stems. He backs her over

the unwaxed table, the only unstained thing
in there – bodies darkening the knotted
wood as he works her against the grain.

Subscribe for the latest from the UK’s oldest literary magazine.

Sign up to our newsletter for the latest poetry and prose, news and competition updates, as well as 10% off our shop. 

You can unsubscribe any time by clicking the link in the footer of any email you receive from us, or directly on info@thelondonmagazine.org. Find our privacy policies and terms of use at the bottom of our website.
SUBSCRIBE