A new poem by poet and publisher Stacey Teague.

Love language

“Language does not pour out of me,

but is something I’ve entered” – Jack Underwood

I’m at home in the big air.

Under the surest sky I’ve seen.

I am touching your poem.

The one where you stood in the afternoon.

Stopped at a pedestrian crossing.

In movie magic lighting.

Moving towards me! Imagine!

And I do want a little forehead kiss.

In line at a medium tier rural café.

I will eat a huge slice of lolly cake.

You will drink a huge chocolate milkshake.

Everything will be just huge.

The feeling also enters the room.

And the river is there bending around us.

And we see ourselves reflected on the surface.

And I can hold my stomach to keep the pain inside.

And you will hold it from the outside.

Sometimes, by the river, I see my life as big as a movie screen.

Other times it is a loose stone to kick down the path.

On a loose-stone night I kiss the big air.

When I’m taking the bins out.

I touch the poem in a romance way.

When taking out the glass recycling.

Before walking over to your house.

In a romance way.

The clouds touching as the credits roll.

 

The Friday Poem is edited by Chris Tse. Submissions are currently closed.