Live on the Land, but Not for Too Long by Lydia Sofia

Each new sun brought deep retching, tugging sea-rope from her throat
until it fell away to air. Facing the glass, a grimace as ship-belly fug steams it up.
In trying to escape the thing, she fell tongue-first into it each morning
gasp-gulping scalding coffee.
Tried switching to tea but it’s all bloody pennies.
All Bran turns to flakes of bone, splinters pinning palate,
safe porridge glooping molten viscera. Trusted tulips looked so alive
on a sunny windowsill. Still, they dirtied their water and it took a long time
to track down the decay smell. She downs the stagnant water with a belch –
these substitutes won’t do for long.

---

Lydia Sofia is a writer living in Worcestershire. Recurring themes of magic, nature and transition often appear in her work, and when she isn’t writing she is supporting victims of sexual violence. She’s on Instagram, posting under the following handle: @lydiasofiawrites

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