Zoe Davis
“my last kiss is buried in the cemetery”
yellowing light grows stagnant in loosest rain
scrape skinless briars
see tomb’s darkened window pane
glass perspired
beneath the one who lies
your naked toes
in mallowed mulch declined
upon the slate of my demise
yes, that’s me
that’s me inside
betrothed hand against a marbled face
now made of stone
once made of lace
of seven girls I am
the one
who must wear the trousers
skin of wolf
prickling lungs
yes, that’s me
that’s me inside
instinct over passion frail
the hunter’s code
must prevail
my love’s a moon of tender bones
in midnight air I taste you
while thinking sweetmeat
where to hide
you
yes, that’s me
that’s me inside
Zoe Davis is a writer and artist from Sheffield, England. A quality engineer in advanced manufacturing by day, she spends her evenings and weekends writing poetry and prose, and especially enjoys exploring the interaction between the fantastical and the mundane, with a deeply personal edge to her work. You can find her words in publications such as: Strix, Ink Sweat & Tears, Dust, Full House Literary, Stone Circle and Broken Antler. You can also follow her on X @MeanerHarker where she's always happy to have a virtual coffee and a chat.
