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Sophine Watkis


When I think of you I see a chalk outline. 

I see a wooden box,

Three rusted nails. I see woodlice and worms and earth.

I see red and blue lights, flushed cheeks and dirty walls.


When I look for you,

I search for the needle, ignoring all signs of hay.

I look for the hole that hasn’t been filled.

I follow a trial of darkened skies and 

Shattered hearts. I look through the

Hollow eyes and wondering minds.


When I find you,

I hold onto twigs and branches and thorns.

I squeeze rocks, I swallow pebbles.

I scrape away the earth and worms and 



When I –

I dream of your bones and your teeth.

I think of your eyes: black; your heart: empty.


Now I don’t look for you and I don’t

Think of you because you’ve been gone

For so

Long, and I can’t find you, you’ve mixed with the earth


And I don’t have a sieve.


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