The Nowhere Birds

I cannot feel found.I filled your absence in mewith all the wrong things, father,fardels, odd bits, gewgaws,waves in tendrils and trees like lobster clawsand howling. Being chased. There's a mesh of dark inside my headbehind my facepurely my mother's - like air shelled in light, a purple bubble,the thin skin over a scream.
caitriona o'reilly's first collection, the nowhere birds
Perdita.