A Woman Called Faithless
There’s a woman called Faithless
living in my house.
She moves from room to room,
trailing musk and ambergris.
Mouth parted, faintly bruised,
she is moody as seaweed. Her glad
gull’s eye collects shells, bones.
Her favourite haunt is horizontal.
A creature wearing only a necklace
of names, she is all things to all men.
You can count on her to kiss and tell.
I think she’s a swan on holiday:
fascinating from across a lake,
all beak and hissing when you get close.
I watch her giving the Man of the House
the largest slice of cake. I know her
too well; I cannot trust her.
She’s Faithless, as a cat;
steals love from cupboards.
magazine list
- Features
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- Acumen
- Agenda
- Ambit
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- Atlas
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
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- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
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- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
- Neon Highway
- New Welsh Review
- North, The
- Oasis
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- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
- Poetry Scotland
- Poetry Wales
- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
- Rain Dog
- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The