Blossom Hibbert
Look, the hole in my heart is
beginning to fill with
wet concrete
Look, it is overflowing, a street has been
built, won’t you walk over it before you get
buried like a small death in an
apple orchard? Won’t you ask around first,
to find a maid who will
keep me safe in my elaborate, often
violent sleep?
Won’t you stop
making snow angels next to your
grave, and be serious
for once?
Blossom Hibbert has a pamphlet, suddenly, it’s now, published by Leafe Press. Her work has appeared in places such as The Temz Review, Litter, International Times, Anthropocene & Buttonhook Press. She has been nominated for Best new Poets award.
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