A winter night, his mouth on her breast
so soft the spring inside her wound tight
following the trail of it, his breath
whispering she should open up, not fight,
and she did, darling. She was one long
ache, hard to see where she ended
and he began. Then such strong
aching, hard to see where she ends
and the baby began. They become one long
whisper, opening up without a fight,
losing the trail of themselves, breath
so real the spring inside winds tight
feeling the shock of what’s happening
this spring night, new mouth on her breast.
Sarah Salway is the current Canterbury Laureate. She is the author of three novels and a collection of short stories. Her poems have won significant prizes in competitions organized by Poetry London, the Essex Poetry Festival and The New Writer, and have appeared in publications including the Financial Times, the Virago Book of Shopping, Mslexia, Pen International and Poetry London. Visit her website
Sarah’s collection You Do Not Need Another Self-Help Book is available now from Pindrop Press. See Sarah at the Phoenix Club, Charing Cross Road on March 8th 2012 for the launch.