Eyewear is pleased to offer a new poem by Colette Sensier to the dying god, August, this morning. Perhaps this will revive its fortunes. Maybe not. At any rate, it's a pleasure. Sensier, a recent Cambridge graduate, is one of the more promising of the younger British poets. She has new poems appearing in Iota soon.
All night we lie back to back under the grid-shadow
of the blue nylon mosquito net, our arms too hot
to bear the weight of any more thick, blood-full
human flesh. Your ankle twitches against mine,
drumming a hollow rhythm, as our backs lie together
to rest like tired, reproachful dogs. I tickle your dreams
like trout. Skimmed of the day behind us, we spend
another night held in the pen of piled skin and tired muscle,
our feet twitching like fish in a cramped, singular skillet.
All night we lie cramped under the mosquito net,
the silver moon above calling our lives up to be caught.
poem by Colette Sensier