Did it start with us curling away each night / our backs turned / the heart of space we
used to make / between our foreheads and our knees / now thrown upside down / now
kicked around / by cold sleepless feet.
Every evening when the light was switched off night would paint our skin blue and
black / as if for war / and we would turn our backs to each other / our hair battling in
the trench / between the pillows.
So many tiny splittings / idle fingers troubling the ends of each stray comment / forking
hairs to their roots / balding possibilities for growth / until finally / a parting.
Looking at it now / is it possible what we thought of as splitting was more like an
unfurling / two fronds growing giant / fighting for space in a small apartment / needing
to spread like sails needing some weather to smooth the wrinkles from new wings as
they stretched / toppling books from shelves / shattering plates / a favourite vase.
And perhaps the fighting was part of this / like the shaking of a thin branch / as the
moth escapes her cocoon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
In 2015 Sarah Webster completed her MA with the IIML, writing a collection of poems titled &. Many of her poems are named after keys on the keyboard and explore themes relating to language and love. She knows a lot about punctuation.