Cleo by Molly Burns

I watched you at the window,

your head bent and soft and wet,

drinking from the tap

while rivers of mint and lavender flowed

beyond your shoulders.

Cut grass on your feet from a sunlit Sunday nap.

Your eyes so green—

so green they were yellow—

stretched wide as the snake

blurred past.


Molly Burns is a poet and PhD student, most commonly found on pebbled beaches and/or petting cats she doesn’t own. If you’d like to know more, follow her Twitter @TheMollBurns or see more work and themollyburns.com

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