Sian S Rathore – now that we’re real

Sian S Rathore is both at the heart of the alt lit scene and a submissions editor for the leading ezine Metazen. Her work is playful and dextrous but above all it packs a massive emotional punch.

You can find Sian’s work posted regularly on her fabulous tumblr here

now that we’re real

i want to sit with you in the woods
where the local kids think a witch
lives, at about 9:15pm when it’s just
getting dark, on a bed of dry leaves
touching your outline and wearing
you like a layer of clothes
and i want you to wash my hair for me
underneath some waterfall like in
a terrible film, and i’ll bring my own
conditioner and we will be fastened
to each-other, talking about the night
before when we went to the
gig with the spectacular light show
and seriously, i want to watch
the day come in again
i want to come down with you
on that beach where they found all
the gold
shining out from the sand
it must have been roman
people came from miles around
with thermos flasks of tea
sandwiches and metal
we’ll be ashore and i will kiss you
and taste your own breath in my
breath for a moment
and i want to feel i’m being eclipsed
as we outline the whole horizon – me,
lying like a statue, waiting impatiently
for you to decide
if you should animate me again
and seriously i want to watch
the day come in again, when i might
know your skin against mine once more
our greatest thoughts are taking
turns to tell confess their desires
and i want to drink warm wine with you
hungover in the early afternoon, just
like before, when summer started
i never knew you’d stay, the music we
now might hear together, but seriously,
i want to watch the day come in again
when you are asleep and me half asleep
and everything goes very still for a second
our hotel room has its own hum at night
maybe it’s the television or the lightbulb
from the lamp? it’s a quiet hum, and is in
absolute harmony with your sleep
in the warm, sanitary air
under the weight of a blanket
i wonder who slept in this room last?
‘it’s still very early days’ i think, as
i kiss you on the head and sink
my own body into yours.