Never Feign Normality
I like to use the fur under my arms,
the skull around my neck,
to repel those I want to.
It’s safer, really,
by the time we get to questions
like: what interests you?
(Sex, death, magick, the forest).
…By the time the possibility
of the bedroom may be looming,
If I’ve already worked a little repulsion,
spun the occasional enchantment.
Sex Stories & Sadness
An old friend is murmuring to me
her sex stories & sadness…
though she’s not sure why the sadness.
When she tells me
how her boyfriend approaches her
all I can hear is sadness.
Inwardly, I sigh,
make suggestions.
What I can’t understand, though
is why no-one’s told her she deserves better;
why she doesn’t believe she deserves any better.
Thing is, it’s not just her, is it?
The world is spilling over with women
who’ve never noticed they deserve any better.
Stripping Down
It is a neat month after the poisoning
’til the question:
‘How are you?’
Mightn’t prompt the possibility
I’ll sob over the questioner.
The months’ of death-too-close,
The almost-not-breathing
rolling behind me
like waves in the ocean.
A Blanket of Wildness
I walk down to the Battery Rocks.
Shed clothes like dead skin.
The stones are slippery,
wet, green, algae clad;
living things.
I slither like a seal
on my belly. Slide
til body meets water.
Infinite cold blue
wraps me. Safe/
not safe, now.
Roberta Verdant lives in the UK. She swims in rivers, animal-whispers and blogs for The Huffington Post. She plans to train as a death midwife. RobertaVerdant.com
