Sparks
by and published in Edition Eight of Pomegranate
My hands are un-lit matches;
with phosphorus tips, a darker
red than they have ever been.
One strike, another split tongue.
My chest is on repeat.
You spelt my name wrong, and
that envelope taunts my very
persistence, to be a little less inclined.
Four years wasn’t enough practice.
Come give it a second thought,
I know you crave another turn.
Spread all of my letters
across that cool white coffin.
Have the alphabet
do your dirty work.
Cara Brennan
Cara Brennan is 20 and studies English Literature at Newcastle University. She is originally from North Yorkshire and only wears clothes of a floral print. Her poetry has been published in The Cadaverine and The Beat as well as being commended in the Aesthetica Works competition 2009.