who haunts lonely roads

There's no green light across the bay

I sit, feet dangling just above the waterline

Air tinged with salt and the roil of navy clouds above,

And darling, I never believed in love –

If I snatch a firefly out of the gloom,

Cupped gentle in gentle palm, gently, gently

Flicker in and out of a certain glow

You would whisper "crush" and my fingers would twitch –

Uncurl knuckles, uncurl ribs, uncurl the ribbons and tongues you talk around me

Your eyes are toffee honey brown except at night,

When they turn black and catch the moon like an obscura,

You can be a beautiful liar with your make believe toys,

Shaping me to be one of them –

And your envy shades you, treats you to your ether, and you, you, moth to flame and expecting me to follow –

I will always lag behind, girl, always drag my feet in the sand

I can't love you, you know?

Thesis statement, now explain

You tell me funhouse mirror fables across radio static

And I mutter, no, no, no, not quite

Sinking below the surface into deepest blue

You paint me every colour you'd like me to be –

So certain, so certain –

That when we collide, we will be ultraviolet –

And shine

And I,

I watch you steal with trapped tongue

Ghost upon ghost

Pale young something boy and draining colder

There's no green light across the bay -

But you say there is, anyway.

About the Author

Charlotte Amelia Poe (they/them) is an autistic nonbinary author from England. Their first book, How To Be Autistic, was published in 2019. Their debut novel, The Language Of Dead Flowers, was published in September 2022. Their second novel, Ghost Towns, was self published in 2023. Their second memoir, Conversations With Monsters, will be published in 2024. Their poetry has been published internationally.  Twitter: @charlottepoe Instagram: @smallreprieves Website: charlottepoe.com