To become a season, to become
tired of suffering. How we’ll pass
through each other like rain, but
still hold out for the flood.
Here it is: the soft body of it all
How the sky breathes your name
into dawn, and we form love with
our mouths closed.
You are the only thing I know to be real.
Your beauty, this knife.
I will always be bleeding out of your light.
JADE MITCHELL is a poet from Glasgow, Scotland. She actively writes and performs her own work around the city. Aside from her poetic endeavours, she is also a contributing editor for Words Dance Publishing and a poetry reader for Up The Staircase Quarterly. Her work has been featured in the Rising Phoenix Review, Thought Catalog, The Grind Journal and The Mira Project. Her work can also be found on her blog at vagabondly.tumblr.com.