<\/p>\n
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Cracked<\/strong><\/p>\n When people say your skull cracks like an egg, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Lesley Quayle <\/strong>is a widely published, prize-winning poet and an editor and folk\/blues singer. Work has appeared in The North, Rialto, Tears in the Fence, Prole<\/em>, among others. Her latest pamphlet is Black Bicycle <\/em>published by 4Word<\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Cracked When people say your skull cracks like an egg, it doesn\u2019t. Not the Humpty Dumpty fragmentation – compared to that, it\u2019s unspectacular. A sound like a dropped watermelon, the fall, the slightly meaty thud. A possible loss of consciousness, your vision vague, taut skin split, an unexpected warmth of blood. The gathering […]<\/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":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20387","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20387","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=20387"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20387\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20388,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20387\/revisions\/20388"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20387"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20387"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20387"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nit doesn\u2019t. Not the Humpty Dumpty fragmentation –
\ncompared to that, it\u2019s unspectacular. A sound
\nlike a dropped watermelon, the fall, the slightly
\nmeaty thud. A possible loss of consciousness,
\nyour vision vague, taut skin split, an unexpected warmth
\nof blood. The gathering wetness on tentative fingers
\nnow permeating hair and floor. When you close your eyes,
\nhot sparks confetti the dark behind your lids.
\nBone meets stone, in a smash of numbered heartbeats,
\na sudden kick of pain that stamps the breath
\nfrom your lungs. You\u2019ve forgotten how to move
\nuntil deft and gentle hands raise you, nausea gathering
\nlike a landslide. There are no words, but tears as you crumple,
\na beacon of relief as he folds you to his chest.
\nHe wants to summon all the king\u2019s horses and all the king\u2019s men
\nto put you back together \u2013 and they can. They will.
\nSo all that remains is a faint bloodstain on the flagged floor.<\/p>\n