Somehow, during the night, my bones melted, leaving me a sunken sack of skin, barely able to move beyond a twitch of finger or toe. Even my teeth have become liquid, gurgling in the back of my semi-collapsed throat, my tongue splashing like a drowning lie in my folded mouth. From the corner of my misshapen eye I see that you are gone, the side you lay on as smooth as though you were never there. I wonder was last night a dream, your body hot against mine, your breath eager in my mouth, my name loud and familiar on your tongue, and this morning is some following nightmare I might wake from at any moment? I hope not, the cruelty of my loneliness eased by only a dream too much for me to bare.
IN THE SILENCE
The lessons learnt in the silence of sleep are always only half-remembered, and in this abridgement lies our dismissing of them and the better person we might become if only we listened to ourselves after the noises of the world have come back on.
Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen, Flights, The Blue Nib and Poetry Wales. His play ‘Wall’ was part of Druid Theatre’s Druid Debuts 2020. His debut poetry collection “Playing Poohsticks On Ha’Penny Bridge” was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Orson Carroll, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
His blog/website can be found at https://edwardmlee.wordpress.com