<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Living Room<\/strong><\/p>\n This is your space now \u2013 I am a visitor, bringing trays, We used to sit together, Today you pull your hair out I watch you from a distance, Sometimes, when I touch your face, And the living room lights up <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Lost World<\/strong><\/p>\n The earth\u2019s crust is so thin here You would have hated this: a hundred-metre abseil, But you\u2019re not here, and so I fall and clamber We both make it down, But the thirty-metre ladder is the hardest: I wasn\u2019t brave today, but you were \u2013 you put me to shame. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n David Van-Cauter<\/strong> is a freelance tutor and editor\u00a0who lives in Hitchin, Herts. These poems are\u00a0from his commended entry for this year’s\u00a0IS&T Cafe Writers Pamphlet\u00a0Commission, “J”.\u00a0He was runner up in the Poetry Society Stanza competition in October.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Living Room This is your space now \u2013 sofas shifted to accommodate a hospital bed, tables thick with medication, drinks and flowers, get-well cards. I am a visitor, bringing trays, delivering takeaways, fetching, carrying, helping you sit up. We used to sit together, my arms around you, my fingers plaiting your hair […]<\/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-7597","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7597","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=7597"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7597\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7603,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7597\/revisions\/7603"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7597"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7597"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7597"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nsofas shifted
\nto accommodate a hospital bed,
\ntables thick with medication,
\ndrinks and flowers, get-well cards.<\/p>\n
\ndelivering takeaways,
\nfetching, carrying,
\nhelping you sit up.<\/p>\n
\nmy arms around you,
\nmy fingers plaiting your hair
\nor pressing at your skin,
\nthe cushions placed just so.<\/p>\n
\nstrand by strand, letting it collect
\nbeside you on the bed,
\neach one a memory, unravelling,
\na broken thought.<\/p>\n
\ntwo metres feeling like a lifetime,
\nlight years.<\/p>\n
\na kind of warmth connects us.
\nI feel it in your slight, barely perceptible smile,
\nimagine it behind your half-closed eyes.<\/p>\n
\nwith all we were, and are \u2013
\nits long, slow breaths embracing us
\nin the space we have left.<\/p>\n
\nthat the roads cave in, collapsing
\ninto sinkholes, which they cordon off
\nor, in the roads, refill with gravel constantly
\njust to prevent the landscape and the people disappearing.<\/p>\n
\nand then a trek through rocks, insects and perilous drops,
\nthe only exit a ladder climbing into darkness, chaos, light.<\/p>\n
\nfor both of us. I imagine your terrified face,
\ndescending into the smoky, otherworldly air,
\nthe rope and harness as the only barriers between
\nthis place and the next, clinging for dear life.<\/p>\n
\nenjoy the glow worms glistening
\nlike stars on the roof of the cave,
\ninventing constellations.<\/p>\n
\nwet, muddy rungs and climbing hand by hand,
\nevery ounce of strength in gradual dissipation,
\nthe harness pulling, energising.<\/p>\n
\nHanging there, I caught a tiny glimpse of what you felt
\nstaring into oblivion,
\nyour lost world.<\/p>\n