The Leeds Review - Issue #1If only I could make the Self external, divine creature, as only I would dare
Leave you as soft as dandelion clocks, the skin on peaches, gossamer
Siphon out those burdened cheeks; make those mournful eyes summon every stare
Delve into darkest Tartarus for the lustful fire of your hair.
I'd be a naiad, pale limbs and perfected fleeting glances
In green pools reflecting how each different shade of serenity dances
In woods, hills and glades, laughing off a mythical beast's advances
My voice echoing wind through leaves, you'd sigh the way a butterfly breathes.
Past the rocks, high boughs and branches, until the centaurs look like ants
Find a view so expansive that my stomach twists whenever clouds sail past.
Make the dust between us stop and reconsider its next step
Leave Time in limbo for a while; don't let it render us inept.
Sophie Payling Info