Tuesday, 17 November, 2015

my grandmother used to grow foxglove
digitalis –
the scientific name means
and refers to the ease with which a flower can be fitted over a fingertip

you came into my life
a vivid palette of violet hues
through to shades of light

my grandmother used to tell me to watch out
when playing around the foxglove
a brush of the lips
a taste of pollen
could stop a heart
what she never said was that some foxgloves walk

you were a swarm of moths in my stomach
dancing on light
you stole the breath from my lungs
a moon tide that pulled me under
i’ve never felt more alive
than with your lips pressed against mine


but you were a foxglove and they weren’t moths they were wasps