How Someone Might Be Seen

by Jack Bigglestone

 

lounging on the gritty hot stone pool edge

casual fingers push ripples across

the surface where watery eyes

meet and consider each other

in reflection he explores his face

pores over himself   first

lowering his brows

testing out the look

of a brash schoolboy

then rolling out the lips

drawing in the cheeks

trying on mother’s

heavy lidded silky night glamour

turning to let shade fall

in the cups at his collar

the sun shines along his cheekbone

forming a face for portrait

 

looking at his own soft sculpted skin

as an image before him

 

he remembers a younger

day by the water

he remembers the feeling

fear of submersion

the turning urgent knowledge of

airless time

a fleet calm bewilderment

then sudden hands pulling against

the dragging water

speaking unknown words

through his drowned rattling ears

blinking sharp coughing surfacing from

this thought he returns

to the present picture

who sits and stares up

the wavering beauty in the pool admires

its full body above

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JACK BIGGLESTONE

Jack is a new poet from rural Shropshire, now studying English Literature at the University of Glasgow. His current poetic interests include queer perspectives on the body, gender, childhood and family.