TWO POEMS | HANNAH SMITH-YEN
"Opulence," he grins, gold dripping from his teeth
a thick sludge of metal-shine sliding down his chin
he says, "you're holy,"
he says, "let me canonise you,"
he says, "i am an alchemist"
he says, "chrysopoeia, chrysopoeia, chrysopoeia,"
gilded, golded, goldening
he slips his tongue into your mouth
and you swallow it all down.
the heated blankets in your room weighed heavy
piled on top of me as I lay, sweating and sick
syrup-sweet medicine spooned into my slack mouth
slipping in and out of sleep
facing the kitchen. thinking about you feeding me
til i bloomed, til no one else could look at me
and the heated blankets were your body on mine
as i lay underneath you, sweating and sick
while you spooned ‘i love you’ into my waiting mouth
trying to soften the hardness of my teeth so that
my bites would be like kisses
Hannah Smith-Yen was born in Guisborough and grew up around the world. She is currently studying anthropology in London, writing a dissertation on the body in professional wrestling. Lately she's been reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and re-reading issues of Doom Patrol. You can find more of her athannahsmithyen.tumblr.com.