Jessica Mookherjee





He was out of his skull when he said
Let’s be lovers, licked my cheek like
sea-lapping the shore. He walked me
home from school

down that secret path past the cliffs
where no one was supposed to go.
He pulled me inside a cave shaped like a fist,
and gave me my first cigarette.

His eyes were like teeth,
said we should elope, steal a car,
run away to Porthcawl and I took my first
drag as the chemical taste bit and

he watched as I wretched, said
it’s a skill, and held my hair back
as I spat in the rock-pool.
He blew smoke rings as I choked.

As I heard gulls screaming
like children I shivered,
I saw waves sneak in through
the cracks and fissures.

I don’t know why I giggled
when he told me men brought girls here
and we kissed as I touched
scars carved on the cave wall.





Jessica Mookherjee is a poet  originally from Wales now living in Kent. She has poems published in Ink,Sweat and Tears, Antiphon, Agenda, Prole, Interpreter’s House, Obsessed With Pipework and Tears in the Fence. Her pamphlet, The Swell – was published in October by Telltale Press.

Comments are closed.