Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009


by Colin Rennie

 I crunch silence between my toes
because my voice can't be raised
The barb of your tongue is a harpoon
Nailing a whale's back.
I dive from the whiplash of your kiss
And lie in the park to nurse my bruising
The air laughs and touches and sleeps
I lie in the recovery position, waiting
Nothing happens, no healing, no first aid
I feel my pulse it is hollow but normal
So I return myself to your cage.

Added: 20.04.2009