By Ananda Ward
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references to religion
I’ve been disjointed
lately, my leg shakes on platforms, rushed air bursts
through screeching metal.
Maybe I’ve been this way for a while
choices clutched
like a rosary, thumbing beads of indecision
crucifix dangling out of grasp of bitten fingertips.
I should have mapped
my life like the floorplans you sketched on paper scraps
in the dimly-lit pub, a glimpse
into your childhood
homes that shaped how your tongue expels
the word. Cartograph a sense of belonging.
I want to show you places that moulded my cerebrum
and find new ones to build dwellings inside
our skin. Hike on strong legs that have carried us
this far, feel the spit of waterfalls
lick our soles as we dive under, stand to attention
on salt flats.
Or taste brine
from your body
stay under covers until the sun passes
over our bedroom, wire headphone tangled legs.
Savour the fact
we have done everything, yet there is
so much more to come.
Ananda Ward is a freelance copywriter, poet, and creative writer. She has worked with queer-led brands like HER and I Am Female, and has been published in Malice Magazine. She is (slowly) working on her debut novel. Originally from England, Ananda lives in Madrid with her girlfriend and lurcher. You can find her on Substack and Instagram @anandamcnally.
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