don’t watch your mouth
you were cold so
i moved closer
hungry for more
your hands under
my striped jumper that still
smells of my mum
silently stripping for you
dancing the outline of your
broken voice
call me
when you need me
but i dropped my phone in
a river that keeps dead bodies
from drowning
so i fasten my belt so
tight i puke some foreign words
which no one understands
but you’re multilingual
a multiplayer multiplying
tongues in my mouth dried from
smoking too early
in the evenings
creating a new language
bacterial symbiosis asking for
intimidating intimacy
i wish you asked
me first before stealing
my speech like a newborn child
i learnt to speak again
rambling my way
through your rented flat
when was the last time you cleaned it
when was the last time you invited
someone to
fuck
you audibly scream
you don’t hear me crying
fuck
soundlessly
disposed of and dispossessed
gone are the voices
in my head
losing vocals i call you
when i need you
i call you
but there’s another corpse in the river
Nastia Svarevska is a Latvian-born writer and curator based in London, UK. Her writing practice spans creative non-fiction, artist interviews, exhibition reviews and poetry. You can find her on Instagram @ana11sva, and her website here.