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A Christmas Carol From Ovid<\/strong><\/p>\n He dumped her by text.<\/p>\n She sat outside Costa and read the message:<\/p>\n \u201ci don’t think we should see each other anymore\u201d<\/p>\n What a dick.<\/p>\n She wasn’t going to let him make her cry.<\/p>\n She started to cry.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n As she cried<\/p>\n the tears flowed down her cheeks<\/p>\n in burning rivulets.<\/p>\n As she cried<\/p>\n the tears began to burn away her skin.<\/p>\n Fur pushed towards the surface,<\/p>\n a pair of antlers sprouted,<\/p>\n her nose went red.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n She cried and cried<\/p>\n until she had forgotten herself<\/p>\n and off she galloped,<\/p>\n leapt into the night<\/p>\n heading north.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Adam Warne<\/strong>: In the past Adam was part of 28 Sonnets Later and performed at Luton Fringe Festival with The Poetry Choir. He got a degree from UEA, organised cabaret nights and his poetry appeared online and in The Rialto.<\/em> Following these successes, he’s now employed to push trolleys at Asda.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Afterwards we found<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n space for whiskey-stained ghosts to pass between our lips.<\/p>\n Tonight we’ll mark the days’ shortness with our breaths<\/p>\n and taught skins. \u00a0Touching, clouds of whispers dissipate<\/p>\n slow, linger cold as orbs<\/p>\n hung low.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n From the pavement, streetlamps pick out laughter with<\/p>\n precision, watch it dance with night ’til we fold mesmerised<\/p>\n by our own noises. \u00a0Tonight we are caught moving just out<\/p>\n of reach. \u00a0The cold never felt<\/p>\n so warm.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Zelda Chappel<\/strong> is a poet and occasional photographer living halfway between the city and the sea. \u00a0Slightly obsessed with fountain pens and tea. Previously published in Popshot, South Bank Poetry<\/em> and Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual 2012<\/em> (and a couple of others).<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A Christmas Carol From Ovid He dumped her by text. She sat outside Costa and read the message: \u201ci don’t think we should see each other anymore\u201d What a dick. She wasn’t going to let him make her cry. She started to cry. As she cried the tears flowed down her cheeks […]<\/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":[33],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3794","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-twelve-days-of-christmas-2012"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3794","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=3794"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3794\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23938,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3794\/revisions\/23938"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3794"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3794"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3794"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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