Sunstroke
I knew a man with suns for eyes,
he blazed with sex and golden lies,
a burning shitstorm in disguise.
How slowly do the seasons turn.
The solar flares of hot desire
cannot cleanse a cheating liar.
The glaring fact: you play with fire,
you get your stupid fingers burned.
Sarah Doyle is the Pre-Raphaelite Society’s Poet-in-Residence, and is widely placed and published. A pamphlet of collage poetry inspired by Dorothy Wordsworth’s journals – Something so wild and new in this feeling – was published by V. Press in 2021. Sarah is currently researching a PhD in meteorological poetry at Birmingham City University. Website: sarahdoyle.co.uk