Cyanotype

I try bleaching the sun 
using liquid soda crystals 
but the sky turns yellow too, 
wet paper lets it bleed

everything turns yellow
paper wears to holes –
that layer between image 
and air so thin.

Is this how sunrise works?

I put tea leaves in a bucket
tone the sea until it glints
pollution brown, trap the sun 
like a wasp in a glass
shifting across the paper. 

Still, that disobedient buzzing sound.

A version of this poem has previously appeared in The Common Breath.

Amber Rollinson is 23 and currently studying for the MSt Creative Writing at Oxford. She writes poetry and fiction and has had writing featured by various online and print publications including Epoque Press, Channel Magazine, Cabinet of Heed, The Common Breath, The Adriatic, Green Ink, and Pulp Poets Press. Her debut pamphlet is due out with Broken Sleep Books in 2022. She has also had artwork featured by Neon Magazine, The Common Breath, Streetcake Magazine, Epoque Press and Quince.