Lindz McLeod
I still have you in my throat;
neither fight nor flight will erase the imprint.
If my boots are sinking,
it’s the sweetest damned descent.
Fire up the cannons, I’ve
no cause for complaint.
A bughouse game, played not to win
but to explore the boundaries of
the board. I would
armour myself in dappled steel,
extend my shoulders by the line of sight.
Nock these arrows, dipped in
your initials,
plucked from this kestrel chest.
I still have you in my throat;
rookridged tongue and bishop teeth,
we murmur knife-to-honey spread. Signed
a mutual understanding.
En prise—
with surprising grace, a kind affect.
Dredged up, pooled as one
and gutted, silver, on the page.
Echoes of the darkness slung across
feverskin, our whisky-drammed;
“I want you so much,” and still
the distance knows us best.
***
Lindz McLeod lives in Edinburgh, Scotland. Her prose has been longlisted for the Fish Publishing Flash Fiction prize; her short stories have been published by the Scottish Book Trust, 365 Tomorrows, Dreamscape Press and more, while others are available in the Twisted Aardvark Flash Fiction anthologies on Amazon. She has published poetry with Wingless Dreamer, Passaic / Völuspá, Prometheus Dreaming, and Meat For Tea: the Valley Review. Her poem ‘Upon The Hill’ was shortlisted for the Fish Publishing Poetry Prize 2019. She is a committee member of the Edinburgh Writer’s Club, and is currently reading for a Masters in Creative Writing.