Allison Grayhurst




You are far, without a face.

Six nights on the bed beside

your brooding limbs, the covers

piled between us like a clotted vein.

I know you are sad, but it is never

enough just to say it,

to feel my arms full of your aching,

feel the fine fibres of isolation

choke your core until only the cramp remains.


And the longing in your eyes knows no bounds.


Copyright © 1997 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Low Word” February 2017





You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as…

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