Ghost of Your Former Self by featured artist Jamila Clarke

      Dying By Distance

      This is how you die by distance:

      There are sunflowers in the shape of your face
      blooming in my mind and I can’t de-petal you.
      You are an avalanche of flavours driving down
      my throat, an 8.6 magnitude earthquake belting
      out in my hands.

      There is a small world in my chest that falls to
      its knees at the slight breath of you. On the days
      when I want to bite your neck, I chew on apples.
      On the days when I want to swallow you whole,
      I eat my fist.

      Heartache is the stain that cannot be burnt from
      the chest.

      This is how you die by distance. In eating memories
      whole and licking your fingers when you’re done.
      Where all the ghosts make beds out of your teeth.
      Some memories are ugly like spinach. Others are
      sweet like bonfires in the throat.


Karese Burrows

I am a writer and painter from The Bahamas. My first publication came with Literary Sexts by Words Dance Publishing. When I’m not writing (well, poetry that is) you can find me hunched over my latest love story or in the corner of a bookstore with my nose buried between the shelves. You can read more of my work at