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THREE Poems Charlotte


for Kate Bickmore
sword lily don’t split me
but drape across my back
and shoulders
with soft peach petal kiss

i know that tingle-touch and i want
to twine you, gently, between my fingers
without breaking you apart
i broke you before—you’ve been hybridised
for my gaze, consumption
i am sorry
i know that you waited earnestly, yearningly
once, for the thirsty dip
of a long tongue
in your flower spikes, grieving
to be pollinated by an anthophorini bee

a long time ago

sword lily whip crack
against my back because i
deserve it
then gently drape my shoulders, nose,
with soft peach petal kiss


        – syllables that wet my lips
so that they glisten     like the skin
        of your petals, waxy gleam,
                                            that circles, protruding the dimpling
                                                                                    of your spadix,
                                                                                    your spike,
                                                                                    minute flowers arranged snug about a
                                                                fleshy axis, almost grotesque

like the best things in life
flowering soft but firm
                                      how i like it
shining with christmas time brightness
your gory          internal           intimate red
                                                            against vibration green
i want you by my bed
so i can wake up and see you lush
                                     leaning on the totem that you dutifully climb
                                                                                        alongside me
                                                                in that slight draft
that makes the curtains fuss
and we act like we’ve released oxytocin,
                                                                     gamma amino butyric acid,
                                                                                         in other words, serene

nepenthes northiana

you can devour me

                        i don’t mind. i want you to eat me up and mulch me in your acids
i’ll sleep inside your pitcher cup and go willingly hungrily into that
            good night
curled up inside your death womb
                        (make me feel like the insect that i am)

                        or if that makes you feel uncomfortable we can live in symbiosis
                        i will be your carpenter ant

i just wanna hunker down and bathe inside your juices       i don’t care what they do to me
             baptise me, baby, in your viscoelastic biopolymers

             i will slip on your wet peristome lips and thud inside you
                        deep in your globe there’s a whole world
             i will huff on your sweet must
                        i must

Charlotte HEATHER is a writer, musician and co-founder of Rita Munus; a writing and art based workshop facilitation project. Her work has appeared in On Paper: An Unofficial Love Island Anthology, Corda Magazine and The Bohemoth. Her pamphlet of queer speculative fiction is forthcoming with Koroula SF. She’s currently working on a novel concerning bodies, sex and gender alongside facilitating workshops at Cubitt Gallery for Rita Munus project Write It Speak It Move It. Her band, Solution Hours, have just released their latest single, Kneading (see here & here).
If you are reading on a telephone, portrait view of these works will interupt the lineation; we recommend either reading in landscape or on a computer. 


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Partner to a press called Tenement, Hotel is a publications series for new approaches to fiction, non fiction & poetry & features work from established & emerging talent. Hotel provides the space for experimental reflection on literature’s status as art & cultural mediator. 

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