LOTTIE STEPHENS

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Breathing Underwater: A Poetry Anthology

STILL

Still waiting for my period

Still in pain down there

Still haven’t sorted my taxes

Still have a broken laptop

Still trying to allow myself to be

still

He’s still.

Still dead.

Still as a statue.

Well yeah I suppose he can move through the

feathers that

beat

through the beech trees

on the hawk’s wing.

He can move through my

belly laughs

and

squinted eyes

He moves in between the cinema seats

dances across the screens

He flickers across my eyelids

When I myself am

still

waiting for you or a sign

or a glimpse

or a moment

a voice

a signal

a match

an ignition

an understanding

a misunderstanding

a disjointment

a crack

a glitch

a stillness

Grief aged me and rebirthed me

Like an old man learning to walk

I still feel like I’m on stilts

And everyone is far below

And can’t hear me

Or see my face

The soul is seen in your eyes

I’m a faceless woman

A soulless woman

But maybe you’ll be up here

Amongst the stars

There’s a stiller air here

and so much space to breathe

I spend all my days head in the clouds

But once you’re up there

Its very hard to come down

I don’t feel grounded.

Things slip from my hands

and hit the earth too hard

I trip and fall a lot because I don’t look where I’m walking

That’s why its better if I’m

still

Not in the way you are though

But I guess you’re not really are you?

Are we ever, really?