To hear your voice
To hear it fall back into this night

Where your breath now waits,
Too hot to move as you in your green dress one shoulder bare

Using my eyes as mirrors
And so far away that even these maps can’t find you

Where connection becomes need
Becomes the broken laws of language

Becomes the broken laws of anything but rules
As you then say ‘They don’t make dreams like this anymore’

First teaching me your nakedness
Then teaching me to touch both sides of your skin

Texting me goodbye
Then texting me to tell me the other one’s name

Dearest reader! Our newsletter!

Sign up to our newsletter for the latest content, freebies, news and competition updates, right to your inbox. From the oldest literary periodical in the UK.

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