Monday, 17 September 2018

A poem by Noel Williams

A thousand fictions


Scheherazade reclines behind my eyes.
I’m wondering which of me watches her flex
an ankle glazed in the slide of falling silks.
I’ve discovered different sorts of ignorance.

Somewhere between the curious boy
chewing the peak of his cap
and this too solid body now fearing to forget
I find the blindness of knowing my exact desire.

Consider bees in lavender, frantic
in the snack of the moment. They’re sure the next flower
will be it, the one secreting that colour of sky
that pumps the queen, waxes cell-walls to mirrors,
caught in the gauze of her story.









Noel Williams is the author of Out of Breath (Cinnamon, 2014) and Point Me at the Stars (Indigo Dreams, 2017) with poems published in the UK, US and elsewhere. He's co-editor of Antiphon (antiphon.org.uk), Associate Editor for Orbis (www.orbisjournal.com), an occasional writing mentor and reviewer for The North and Envoi.

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