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A poem

Grace Linden

it was snowing

but would not settle –

it was so much

how we were

having sex that afternoon

and afterwards,

when you were             folded against

every part of me

there was, then,

a single             woven cloth,

light as anything,

that covered us

so that the low cloud

might fall in pieces

and not settle,

for we would not notice it


Grace Linden is a 3rd year Classicist at Magdalen College, Oxford.