Elizabeth Gibson
As we wait to find out why I am bleeding again
The carpet in this place is like curls of fat cut from a chop,
or bloated white kelp – although it is really grey, or green,
it is impossible to see it clearly. It is so cold in here now
and I am so sleepy that my eyes are starting to go numb
to the subtleties of turquoise or teal. But the floor is full,
loud, swirling and flooding, fighting for ever more space.
It could be kale, piped icing, whipped cream, walnut innards,
brain, tripe, ferns or flame. Womb tissue, flecking upwards
towards ovaries. Parts of ears. Fungi gathered around a tree.
The golden scrolly decorations that burst from church pillars,
that I fixed on each night I sat in a wooden pew on the balcony
after I survived flu to sing in the choir for the Christmas play.
The cold is all you remember, and then pillars and carpets
dragged in like awkward kids, with curls and flabby edges
that from my own soft self, it would have been easy to reject.
But back then, I saw richness, gorgeous excess. Life, still going.
or bloated white kelp – although it is really grey, or green,
it is impossible to see it clearly. It is so cold in here now
and I am so sleepy that my eyes are starting to go numb
to the subtleties of turquoise or teal. But the floor is full,
loud, swirling and flooding, fighting for ever more space.
It could be kale, piped icing, whipped cream, walnut innards,
brain, tripe, ferns or flame. Womb tissue, flecking upwards
towards ovaries. Parts of ears. Fungi gathered around a tree.
The golden scrolly decorations that burst from church pillars,
that I fixed on each night I sat in a wooden pew on the balcony
after I survived flu to sing in the choir for the Christmas play.
The cold is all you remember, and then pillars and carpets
dragged in like awkward kids, with curls and flabby edges
that from my own soft self, it would have been easy to reject.
But back then, I saw richness, gorgeous excess. Life, still going.
Biography
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Elizabeth Gibson (she/her) is a poet in Manchester, UK, who writes about queerness, body image, and living with PCOS. She has been published in 404 Ink, Gigantic Sequins, Giving Room Mag, Lighthouse, Popshot, Sea Foam Mag, and Queerlings, and has been commissioned by Manchester Literature Festival, Beatfreeks, and Dibby Theatre. Her poem ‘Arrival’ was selected to represent Manchester as a City of Literature in Tartu, Estonia, where it appears on bus windows. She was awarded a grant from Arts Council England in 2021, to work on further exploring her queerness through poetry, and she has recently been collaborating with dancers and musicians. Find Elizabeth on her website: https://elizabethgibsonwriter.blogspot.com and @Grizonne on Twitter and Instagram.
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