Poetry: Syllables by Camille Lewis
How many make another person happy?
Three is said to be a magic number.
Ro-me-o Mont-a-gue & Ju-li-et Cap-u-let
Pound three times on the lids
Of their tombs. No! Look what happened to us!
How hard can it be to break down?
One-two-three! Just like that.
The obvious contender: i-love-you.
Now, this time:
With feeling. Project your voice.
Say it with a mouth full of
stars; say it like you have three
syllables left in the world
and you hand them to me, glistening
One, two, three, the waltz goes on.
Camille Lewis is a writer, avid reader and Plathian from South West England who lives with borderline personality disorder. She reads for The Winnow and Bandit Fiction.