Your Name

You live
in the silence of mornings,
in the space between my thoughts,
in the falling of the sun, in moments
before sleep. I’m reminded of you in
the smell of bleach on kitchen tiles and
the stench of soaking sick.

You lived
yet linger between the softness of still
instants and jarring radio silence.
Your cries of victory and pain are a loitering stain.
You are resurrected in paintings by your left hand.
Your blushing red is the bursting of a sunset, your blue
is the depth of an ocean hue pouring onto canvas.

You are
a woman with a new face. I don’t remember the sorrow
that once clung to your eyes. Don’t remember the shock of
your blue, black and yellow smile. You are
a winter flower, bearing the world's cold with elegance.
You bloom, bursting with grace amongst frosty diagnoses,
displaying soft pink petals to brighten rotten memories.

You aren’t
a memory—you’re the fluttering in my chest,
the colours I notice beyond their frames. You dive
into the magic of my closed eyes and I greet you there
each time giving back your name. Maybe
one day you’ll remember, but either way,
I'll forever celebrate you and your reflection.

Biography: Chloe Baker is a third-year student at the University of Reading studying English Literature and Creative Writing. She has published poetry in Voices Along The Road; an anthology created to fundraise for child refugees. Her favourite thing about poetry is its capability to nurture both its authors and readers. Her poems featured here explore various experiences that she has since found sweetness within.