Published September 1st, 2023
by Emilie Roberts
The shiny skin of a finger just burned
Wrinkled, puckered and new.
Was it the stove top that did it, or her
Mother's copper pot?
She's left the milk to skin over,
Burn the pan to caramel, gas flames
Licking patterns on the orange.
The kitchen tile will do, pressed
Against this new formed wound.
The rest have calloused over,
Faded or scabbed off, incredible
In both frequency and their brevity.
Emilie Roberts is a writer from Wicklow, Ireland. She holds an MA in Creative Writing from University College Dublin. She lives in Edinburgh.
This poem is included in Poetry World #7, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Edinburgh Poetry Magazine:
you have many faces
by Ben Campbell
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