Sometimes my arm bends back | Katy Naylor

Your photo is an exhibit 

Clear-glass eyes, eternal smile

Pinned in the frame, the world’s dream

Jointed, limb by tender limb, and packed in ice 

You come to me at night

Sour cherry on your lips so close I can almost taste it

You whisper what I could take, what I could become

The offering ready, wrapped in plastic 

If only I 

Bend towards perfection and the black hole

Put my hand through the picture, ignore the bleeding

The coals under my feet, hot arcs  behind my eyelids 

When I open them I only see your footprints, primrose yellow in the dark

Katy Naylor lives by the sea, in a little town on the south coast of England. Her work has been published in places including Expat Press, Notdeer Magazine and The Bear Creek Gazette. Find her on twitter @voidskrawl