The moon is an enormous egg,
Cracked and about to spill.
It howls in our ears,
Swelling until it breaks.
You are always passionate
In the dead of night.
I bit into the Rose and
There were crushed buds everywhere,
Felt the dampness of petals;
Soft little bloody mouths
Puckered at my breasts as
The last declaration of love in this world.
——
Natalie Crick, from Newcastle in the UK, has found delight in writing all of her life and first began writing when she was a very young girl. She graduated from Newcastle University with a degree in English Literature and plans to pursue an MA at Newcastle this year. Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in a range of journals and magazines including Interpreters House, The Chiron Review, Rust and Moth, Ink in Thirds and The Penwood Review. Her work also features or is forthcoming in a number of anthologies, including Lehigh Valley Vanguard Collections 13. This year her poem ‘Sunday School’ was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.