One Poem from Ashley Bovan

You’re Extracted Now

I’m dumped, on a leash.
Dazed and tired.
Walled up
like a 1930s municipal reservoir,
sluices choked with weeds.
I hold a snapshot
of your smile
as you hung by the door
and watched me depart.
I predict it’s a grin that will turn toothless
when, eventually, enchantress
becomes old.

Yesterday,
ripped by longing like it wasn’t mine,
I wrenched out some words,
discovered what I wanted to say.
You were pleased to listen.
Then, some lively moments in space –
open, like there was no power
that could ever drain the warmth
from our alliance,
I watched you
spread around the news
of your conquest.

And so, by the door,
the feeblest of hugs.
We know this is probably
the end.


Ashley Bovan is a poet and photographer and lives in Cardiff, Wales. He has been published in various journals and is currently writing up his MA thesis.

                                                                            back