Lydia Allison

 

 

 

Not Anywhere

We did not rollerblade. We did not keep secrets. He was not still
in love. I did not bring my telescope and did not know the names of stars.
He did not pretend to like the sound of my book.

We did not order these. The bones did not pull away with the flesh.
I was not squeamish, this was not the same as anything.
The fish were not a matching pair. The river was not clean white noise.

 

 

Lydia Allison is a poet, writing facilitator, creative mentor, and tutor. Her poetry has appeared in print and online. She likes to write about working, travelling and eating. You can find out more at lydiaallison.com, and follow her on twitter @lydiarallison.

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Lydia Allison

 

 

Qin

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: lydiaallison.wordpress.com

 

 

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