by Charlotte De’Ath

as laura treadle turns the wheel her lithe
fingers work the wet clay
moulding the rounded curves
of donna bright eyed giggling
rolling around on laura’s bed casually chatting
about her clitoris and nipples
through her orchid
flower mouth
laura has to concentrate on moisture
and so she waits

whilst in the kiln
rose petals she had painted with scented
brush licks passionately burn
and green honeysuckle leaves
coil to the lip but do not talk
or whisper
reclining in donna’s porcelain arms
that circumnavigate
her heart
longing for that first kiss

but laura’s become an artisan of
unrequited pottery and misfired
when donna threw laura’s dreams
on to the floor
an instant jigsaw
of irregular earthenware pieces
the clay once from the soil
won’t decompose like compost
she knows their only purpose now
in flower pots for drainage

if only
the glaze hadn’t misfired
if only
her gaze hadn’t been misread
if only …
will-o’-the-wisp domestic bliss
fruit bowls size 34b

Charlotte was born in the east end of London but now lives in an idyllic cottage situated deep in the beautiful Suffolk countryside. She has published one chapbook ‘Kicks To Hypnotise Suburban Daughters’ by Erbacce Press, and a further one of dark urban fairy tales is in the making. She spends most of her free time playing with the Clueless Collective at:

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