Map-Making
You live close to this land,
map its contours as surely
as your body’s own:
secret parting of valley lips,
arterial push of river into tide,
the sticky rill of your own still water.
Some days you plot another’s country,
their muscle and bone becoming yours
in the close-ribbed cabin
that domiciles a heart.
And always, after dark,
you strip his night to its secret,
claim the ground as your estate
before bringing yourself to a trust,
that never quite comes.
Here, inscribe my shoulder’s span
while I etch the gravity of your waist,
each ink as black as the other’s,
the survey essential to both.
Cartographers then,
let us share our dismal craft.
We live close to this land,
unmap its contours as surely
as our own: its occult
debris and dead ends.
Born in County Durham, Martin Malone now lives in Scotland. He has published two poetry collections: The Waiting Hillside (Templar, 2011) and Cur (Shoestring, 2015). An Honorary Research Fellow in Creative Writing at Aberdeen University, he is currently studying for a Ph.D in poetry at Sheffield University. He edits The Interpreter’s House poetry journal. Website: www.martinmalonepoetry.com