Joanna Costello

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Best Poem of Joanna Costello


Published in Bath Spa Anthology 2008.

You slept, peaceful, after our last night.
Your hand open, uncovered against the sheets –
You offer me your world, asleep.
I trace your finger like a map,
dip into each trough and peak,
as if to find something I had lost
in the eddies of your prints.
Deep ravines trickle like streams,
I follow them to the edges of your fingers –
white-tipped and cold.
I hold them, all arches and whorls –
A labyrinth of curls trapping my gaze.
Then I sit for a while and try to find
my way to the centre
but it’s ...

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