share


My Mother’s Hands

shed coral scales

& sunrise. In England, the inside

 

is ashen. She touches tangerine flowers,

when a woman

 

exiting her home in Camberwell cries,

go back to where you come from, as if

 

she carries still the scent

of dragon-fruit. I swallow

 

cherry stones. I flower

your abandoned garden

 

in my belly, to carry in me the whispers

of all your lost colours. I dream

 

in shades of lilac. Sometimes

my tummy hurts.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

grew up between Oxford and Mexico City, with stints spent in France and Italy, and began writing poetry while living in Boston, Massachusetts. Her poems have been published in British, American and Canadian journals, including Blackbox Manifold, Colorado Review, The Missouri Review and Willow Springs, and are recently anthologised in Un Nuevo Sol: British Latinx Writers (flipped eye, 2019). 



READ NEXT

Art

Issue No. 11

Sarah Jones

Sarah Jones

Art

Issue No. 11

A series of photographs by the acclaimed British artist Sarah Jones is published in The White Review No. 11. 

fiction

Issue No. 1

Beyond the Horizon

Patrick Langley

fiction

Issue No. 1

Listen to the silence, let it ring on. (Joy Division, Transmission) I It is not yet dawn. The city...

Interview

November 2012

Interview with Simon Critchley

John Douglas Millar

Interview

November 2012

Over the last twenty years Simon Critchley has produced a series of elegant works of political and cultural theory....

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required