Elizabeth Gibson


               We Are Both Pisces      After All


One of these days       I might just e a s e       into fish-ness

after all            I don’t really know how        they reproduce

I have a recurring image                     of a sea thick with eggs

tiny pearls       each with ghost smudge of blood and being

potential to crack        open               release wriggling thing

to catch in your arms              breathe its damp newness      

I dream an ocean of caviar                 all fusing and bubbling

becoming ever more               like powdered sugar stars

there can never be       an end to them            the space

they are trusted to fill is so v a s t       we have no idea

what else is in it          how far it goes on      how it can go on

imagine no more loss              just     plenty-glut-abundance

I know really                           we depend on my uterus

named for an oyster                and yet fleshy and unreliable

I am empty      would be so in water              as I am in air

except for                    you my love                the growing circles

you draw with your thumb     inside me                     ripples

like we are planets      orbiting each other      within our void.

Elizabeth Gibson is a queer, neurodivergent poet of Irish parentage in Manchester, UK. Poems are published/upcoming in Abridged, Butcher’s Dog, Confingo, Howl, Impossible Archetype, Magma, The Storms, and Under the Radar. Elizabeth received a Developing Your Creative Practice grant from Arts Council England in 2021. Website: https://elizabeth-gibson.com