-
still,
you course through chambers
soar through cavities
head for crowded grey cells
hide there a while
white heat spreads under my skull
I claw at you,
you divide and multiply
crawl under epiderm
sweat seals you under pores
white tissue splits at the seams
ferruginous clay dries under my nails
but I do not shed you
twice daily
my tongue has tasted chalk to poison you
the roof of my mouth gathers clouds
to smoke you out
swallowed-back bile jolts
air rushes through my ears
light, vertiginous silence.
About me:
Clémence Sebag is Londoner, she started out as a West Londoner, worked her way up North, then down South until all that was left was East. By day she works as a translator (she’s translating a French novel set in the Second World War), but she wants to be a writer when she grows up and everybody knows East is where creatives live. She graduated from Goldsmiths with a MA in Creative Writing in 2012. She’s had interest from several agents for the beginning of her novel. She’s had three short stories published in The Erotic Review. She regularly writes book reports for a literary scout and these will soon go up on her brand new blog (http://clemencesebag.wordpress.com). She also dabbles in poetry and won third place in The Literateur poetry competition.
Best place to find her: any literary salon around London. Failing which, you can Tweet her @clefanglaise