Then to discover we both go
first for that old chipped blue soup bowl
Is that love?
essays | fiction | poetry | photography | art
Then to discover we both go
first for that old chipped blue soup bowl
Is that love?
braid me yes plait me
no plate me
don’t make me
My bones willow and bite.
My lungs are a workshop. The thing is, I
want to be both engine and earth.
sunshine snacked on
a little
morning
You make a landscape with tiny things
Turn late-night buns into morning seas
we are wrestling for the same
hooks in time
we are bitter catches
broken holed and punchy
I fell in love with this city through your eyes
and from the back of taxi cabs.
I want to scrape back the clouds
and bring morning to you on a tray,
allow you that extra hour.
James Carroll is a twenty-three year old English Literature Masters student at the University of Leeds. His work has featured in multiple Leeds art publications, including The Scribe, Heir and his mother’s fridge. He is currently writing a novel about the relationship between sport and men’s mental health, and no poem could ever mean more…