Uncoupling by Jac Jenkins

Ice
clasps its thorny cloak with filigreed

brittle
lace against my breast

bone.
The pin sticks my skin when I inhale.

I
stay close to his mouth;

his
heat breathes an early thaw

as
Winter opens its teeth on my throat.



Spring
stitches my scabs to scars, my scars

to
silver. I am bare beneath bridal lace

and
veil. When I inhale, his hands

clasp
me like whalebone; I stay close

to
the

Fault by Joanna Preston

A mistake. An error of judgement. A penalty
brought against a quiet city. Stroll
through the park, lunchtime almost over.
A defect, a small disappointment. A summer day
laden with clouds, grey light that softens the walls,
the stone and brick, the glass. Less
than expected. Someone to blame. A sparrow
rests lightly on the hand of a statue. A weakness
in the system, communications break down