A yolk of sky, split and dribbling on your side of the bed. Some mornings you catch it pink
against the curtains. Or a Sunday, when you were only getting up for water, and the kitchen
is flooded with it, outrageous light. Gasp like you opened the door on lovers sharing
breakfast. Almost wake the man, soft and dribbling on your side of the bed. Marinated
in lilac, unaware the day is knocking at his window with coffee and the promise of snow.
Cat (she/her) is a poet based in London. Her work has been published in The Rialto, Anthropocene Journal, Dust Poetry Magazine, Ink Sweat and Tears, and The Lighthouse Literary Journal. She was long-listed for the British National Poetry Competition in 2019. Find her on twitter @cattyfantastic.