Sacred marking

by Kate Garrett

---

Ganesha offers a lotus from this temple wall
above prayer cushions draped in tangled knots
screen-print splayed over black sheets. Cave
paintings of Bruce Lee, skulls shot down in flames
remind us of what’s to come: faeries wearing
only their skin beckon you in to their Otherside.

The mantra here has no words; it is the sound
of a lantern filled with bees, a reclaimed hive
for the creation of sacred markings. It is the honey
bright fizz-buzz of a needle tip, supernatural.
Instead of incense, the scent of disinfectant
clings, anointing your wrist – bliss. Blessed.

The bitter end

by Kate Garrett

---

of the rope that lets your sails
down, or swings empty, coaxing
you to the gallows –

you pull the slack knots
twisted like secret codes, haul
up the anchor and change course.

The side of me I fear

by Kate Garrett

---

breaks their jaws & teeth
& she is never sorry.

Hidden, queen of snakes,
she never takes the high road.

She dances through me
wearing only a bangle
made of molars & finger bones

gloating like Kali, her feet
trample the gored body of memory.

nest

by Kate Garrett

---

soft waves roll like sand, sea
and close the distance

between the glow
of your skin

and me
a mermaid in reverse –

I’ve been a little girl
with awkward feet
who swims to drown

until now
when you shush
salt tears with pearl teeth

when you emerge smiling
from underneath
on this white
bed tousled

warm-scented
like I once dreamt
a selkie’s fur would be.

after poetry

by Kate Garrett

---

every syllable spoken drifts back to dusted talk behind us
as we walk; a single raindrop lands in the gap of our clasped hands,
rubbed to mist between our thumbs – like the hint you placed
on the crown of my head with your lips, a sigh in the grey dawn,
a moth’s whisper. your kiss filtered down through strands
of my hair, tingled there for days though I told myself nothing
would happen. now here we are, at midnight: I trace the shape
of you in a skylight – out of body but wrapped in your arms after
reaching a point when we decide words are too much, not enough.

Redemption

by Kate Garrett

---

Look up – trees branch like black
veins across the sky’s deepening
blue skin; I can’t hear the beat
of this word without a piece
of me shrinking –

there were things
sex & song couldn’t smooth
away, things pints of beer
wouldn’t wash off, despite his
heart making sixty promises per minute.

Maybe it doesn’t exist, a dream
like written and rewritten lyrics;
maybe it’s a distant
old thing, like stars. Redemption.
The way it bumps right off the tongue.

It is ten days since you last belonged to me

by Kate Garrett

---

and I walk faster
over tangled cobbled streets
wearing rare high heels –
the promise of dusk, wine, friends
helps me forget this.

The girl wanders

by Kate Garrett

---

the shifting border
between waves, clouds and sand
where she searches

for lost things –
salt wind and foam-kissed stones
lead her away

not far enough –
her heart looks out beyond
her restless feet.