Nadia Saward graduated from King’s College London with a BA in English Language and Literature. One of her poems was shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize in 2016. She is about to start an MA in Creative Writing Poetry at Royal Holloway, University of London.
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Swallow
The red dirt of the pyramids
was still under my wing, when I found
a town with roofs like small mountains
and a crying prince.
And a crying prince
with September- blue eyes, only wished
for blindness. I gave it to him.
A sapphire for your son, a ruby for your mother.
A sapphire for your son, a ruby for your mother,
goes my song. I drop jewels down
coughing chimneys- in the morning
they will think the stars have fallen.
They will think the stars have fallen,
and thank their gods.
I nestle in the hollow between your legs,
and wait for night to come.
And wait for night to come,
to visit the woman at the window,
time scars her face. Hands whittled to bone.
I coat her skin with gold.
I coat her skin with gold,
let it gather, light as snow
on the sill, until all she sees is
the sun’s widening mouth.
The sun’s widening mouth
brings me no warmth.
Cold feathers my throat.
In the morning they will find me,
a beggar at his feet.
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