Baklava

Three soft parcels
two forks, one plate

thin pastry. Each centre
buckles under pressure

-tines, tongue, molars –
unbearably sweet.

What should I say of
daylight hours?

Superficial narratives,
shopping, coffee, lists.

Inside, the body, wrapped
in its skin; the hot heart.

Words under pressure
yield a shock of honey;

the ceiling removed,
the star-bright sky.

 

 

About the Poet:  Sarah Law lives in London and teaches for the Open University and elsewhere. She has published five poetry collections, the latest of which is Ink’s Wish(Gatehouse, 2014). Other recent poems have appeared in AntiphonEunoia Review, Snapdragon, StrideBlue Pepper and Ink, Sweat & Tears. Follow her on twitter @drsarahlaw

 

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