Jessie’s fragment

walking to gloria with you in the morning
of the future and everything is flowers:
last night’s detritus, the dustmen, the suddenness
of a doorway and its enclave.  where we are
in easy camisoles or maybe velvet for the cold,
or in our great red dresses like a good omen.
a little hinge of shoreditch. I think
no one could distinguish us from the joy of the street.
you moonface you cowrie you jessamine,
thronged off your shoulders with pearls

Imogen Cassels’s first poetry collection, Silk Work, will be published in May

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