Photography © Lauren Shear
Blonde hair, blue eyes
And curves beneath pink, pastel dress
White ballet pumps.
Her beauty can make me believe
In God’s Omni-benevolence.
Her mother’s arm a chain-link fence,
My Angel dragged her feet through gravel,
Scrunched her hair up ‘cause you know that,
She just likes it better tangled,
In that moment
I put faith in her religious institution.
She wanted to sit a while
Watch pink and red stain-glass the sky
The world closed in above us,
Now a brushstroke in her sunset eyes
Her perfume tasted sugar-sweet
Like fake, strawberry flavouring.
Her eyelids fluttered as we kissed
Our light white thigh-hairs stood on end,
And risking pain for love felt then
Like the only risk worth taking.
Cathleen Davies is a writer from East Yorkshire England currently studying her post-grad creative writing course at the University of East Anglia. Her work has appeared in a number of magazines and anthologies.
Lauren Shear is a museum professional, public historian, and lifelong resident of Massachusetts. She has been working with activist groups since college and has been seeking ways to support communities under attack ever since.