by Olivia Burgess
Funny, how
easy it is to call somewhere ‘home’ when it feels the same way
West Coast Highway
In Scarborough, we played house
on a leather sofa half-built for toy soldiers
with traffic appearing to invade us
horns clattering the bathroom, rustling the soapy sinks.
Sand in the doorway, sand in my hair. The distant promise of a city
like an open mouth or a waiting clause, a thing to acknowledge
pruning burnt croutons on the miniature kitchenette,
lost deep in thought and the loving kisses of RnB albums.
It rained an English rain, and I learnt to miss home less with each passing drop
on the weathered patio, just laughed and laughed inside blank white walls,
perhaps to press ourselves between the pages of littered marigolds.
The rendezvous hotel blinks twice every hour
With its doll’s house rooms and fancy dinners
but our little room shines. The windowsill is ornate with
artfully placed wine bottles and stolen shells from a beach
only we can collectively reminisce on. Funny, how
easy it is to call somewhere ‘home’ when it feels the same way,
the sun a melted orange cupped in our hands, as if laying
itself down to drink.
Love Letter to the People I Love
It doesn’t matter that you can’t find your people until it does.
Beautiful, bewitching – this is the charm of a circle of love –
when you’re sitting in all five corners of a living room
loving them and loving yourself
(you love yourself because you love them,
you realise this, briefly, teary-eyed)
between candlelight and early autumn daylight dwindles
and hapless giggles and the silliest, raunchiest, debauched
little clippings of comments parried harshly by the world
outside these walls. Their chorus of laughter
is insatiable: it wraps itself around your bones, urges you
to joke more, worry less,
in the way one welcomes a sunny day
after months of monsoon, palms upturned to the dappling light.
© Olivia Burgess
Olivia Burgess (she/her) is a word chef raised and residing near London, UK. When she’s not studying or writing poems about her chaotic inner worlds, she’s telling jokes or staring at the stars, even if it’s light out. She hopes you take care of yourself today.
Share the love and wonder by making sure to respect the copyrights! Everything we publish belongs to the authors. You can share their texts via the official link. If you quote them, please credit them. If you wish to republish their work, you can always write to us and we will put you in direct contact with them. Supporting creativity starts with respecting those who create, so we thank you in advance for doing your part!
The Amazine Community 