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Through a Lens<\/strong><\/p>\n They turned and looked at me as I stood <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Robert Harper<\/strong> <\/a>is the founding editor of Bare Fiction Magazine. <\/a>Recent work has\u00a0featured in The Interpreter\u2019s House, Prole, Acumen, The Lonely Crowd<\/em> and various anthologies.\u00a0He was Highly Commended in the Poetry Book Society Student Poetry Competition 2014.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Through a Lens They turned and looked at me as I stood half in the doorway, half in the hall, unaware this had been brewing long before the leaves of trust were bagged up in the coal shed. All eyes speaking louder than a bloody lip, screams lashing out across the room. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[135,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10259","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2016-poetry-picks","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10259","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10259"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10259\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23829,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10259\/revisions\/23829"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10259"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10259"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10259"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nhalf in the doorway, half in the hall, unaware
\nthis had been brewing long before the leaves
\nof trust were bagged up in the coal shed. All eyes
\nspeaking louder than a bloody lip, screams
\nlashing out across the room. In silence
\nwe just stood; I looked at him, he at her,
\neach one in turn more disbelieving of
\nthe scene. Broken with Go back upstairs,
\nmy gaze fell to the floor. Those words again
\nfrom him this time, as anger pushed hard
\nthrough my face and fifteen years collapsed
\nwith each retraced step. I wondered how to fix
\nthe future, which seemed shattered now; worse
\nthan her glasses on the floor.<\/p>\n