Alchemy, by Emma Wells

Swirls shift, 
rotate in sympathy,
lacing threads like weavers,
spinning, both inside,
(and out);
hazy moonshine 
feeds biting bones
satiating in darkened sunshine. 

Rivulets of sadness spill…
synthesising with skin;
misty layers fold
bandaging breath,
suckling nocturnal morsels
as rearing piglets –
snuffling deep in fleshy layers,
proud as truffle towers. 

Clouds of sentience puff,
dispel…

Semblances of consciousness
taint peripheral memories
as grandma’s rhubarb pie -
custard-comfort, sugary-crust soft. 
A maroon edge wavers,
sound-wave happy,
drinking in Sunday afternoons. 

Liquids flow, stroking surfaces
like new lovers:
silly smooth,
clean shaven,
perfume-pungent. 

Desire swallows whole,
chewing tendrils of memories
like an obliterated octopus;
its talons stuck on empty glass
like an absent reflection. 

I fold, enveloping decadence,
inhaling siphoned fumes;
breath in alchemy 
as a held mistress –
heady notes drift, sway
like a tempestuous storm;
misty foam coats my thoughts
in a pretence cleansing

​

Emma Wells is an English teacher and a mother to a six year old daughter. She writes poetry and short stories as she enjoys the creative freedom that it allows. She has been writing creatively for nearly two years. She has poetry printed in The World’s Greatest Anthology, The League of Poets, The Lake, The Beckindale Poetry Journal, Dreich Magazine, Drunken Pen Writing, Visual Verse, Littoral Magazine and as part of the Ledbury Poetry Festival.