By Jack Westmore
—
I have eaten the last
of the oranges
we
brought back from Valencia.
I did it
whilst you slept,
tearing piece
after sunshine piece
away from the tough skin,
greedily,
as if it were a string of pearls,
with the scarred
cosmos
of my hands.
The cats move about my feet in the early morning kitchen.
They have got their winter coats on.
It has been several thick weeks,
but I see
that they’re not like us - when
they are still,
they are as soft and cool as the coal
we did not bring down from the hills.
And
to leap comes naturally to them.
Jack Westmore is a poet and software engineer from London, United Kingdom. He studied Modern and Medieval Languages at the University of Cambridge, where he made some of his dearest friends. In his spare time, he enjoys listening to music, reading, yoga, and swimming.