Lydia Allison




The pairs of passing seagulls
echoed each other.
Egrets (in twos) watched
their shadows from the shore.
Last night my lover brought me
oysters on ice

cold and sharp with salt and chilli.
They sat in my stomach
wet and heavier than water.
I threw my hook to the lake.
I cast it again. Again and again
nothing came.




Lydia Allison’s poetry stems from a love of weddings and wonky romance. She’s appeared online and in print, including two Pankhearst Slim Volumes (This body I Live In, No Love Lost). Follow on twitter @lydiarallison and find more here:



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