My world is too large,
with heavy cars
and tight-knit stars,
a clique bordering the skies.
My palm is your terrain,
rocky with bones, no excess trains
and platforms barriered by arms
like string held taut and rigid,
tripping you from waiting to “Finally!”
How freeing limits must feel.
Walls fortified by turreted thumbs,
you lay beneath two listless suns,
and curved moon in static sunset.
How euphoric does it feel?
Knowing the route of each wrinkle by memory,
the way the outer bailey curves
and jitters to keep you safe.
A single breeze falls from the crack in your sky,
even, steady,
I will curl my fingers as an awning
for when my sun rests each day,
and births your onslaught of rain.

Biography: Jo Farrant is an emerging poet currently studying Art and Creative Writing at the University of Reading. She has been interested in writing and creating for several years and explores several themes in her work including the experience of modern life as a mixed race, queer person living in the UK as well as reflections on human identity as a whole.