<\/p>\n
We kissed like tangled sting rays Rolling paper like bicycle tubes, You didn’t call me beautiful You were the only boy I let win in an arm wrestle.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Elisha Owen<\/strong> is an English with Creative Writing student at the University of Birmingham. She is a regular performer on the West Midlands spoken word scene and is Comment and Features editor for Redbrick<\/em> newspaper. Find out more at http:\/\/about.me\/elisha.owen<\/a> <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Racing Mum told me that frigid was another word for Jesus’s Mary. You showed me that holiness was holding my hand and racing down the playground until we couldn’t breathe. We kissed like tangled sting rays unwinding, swallowing the words we hadn’t yet learnt to say. Rolling paper like bicycle tubes, and smoking […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","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-3255","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3255","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=3255"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3255\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3256,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3255\/revisions\/3256"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3255"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3255"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3255"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nRacing
\n<\/span><\/strong>
\nMum told me that frigid
\nwas another word for Jesus’s Mary.
\nYou showed me that holiness was
\nholding my hand and
\nracing down the playground
\nuntil we couldn’t breathe.<\/p>\n
\nunwinding, swallowing
\nthe words we hadn’t yet learnt to say.<\/p>\n
\nand smoking the lit air
\ninbetween, just as
\nyour older brother did with others
\nbehind the willow trees.<\/p>\n
\nbut liked the puffy purple jacket
\nI was forced to wear.<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n