Lavina Emma


Anti-magnets :

A collection of poems about distance 



(only from a distance)


I am used to beauty from a distance,

Airy, weightless,

Non-commital glances at a cloudy sky,

I like my beauty at a distance,


Sunlight swallowed, broken by

Thick windows, a train speeding away.

I don’t want to feel its sublime

Waves of heat on too thin skin,


Volatile intrusion of my being,

Inevitable loss of control,

I am not used to restless anticipation,

I don’t want intoxication.


I yearn for beauty, from a distance.





Seeking sense 

(after distance)


A night out playing poker. 

I saw a girl that looked (at me?) like you – brown –

A colder version of your eyes.

A night out playing games of

Chance and courage,  it seemed simple

When I didn’t know your eyes – walnut –

In every dark room you made yours.

You would freely follow the way I could

Only dance with my eyes closed and love

The way I couldn’t look directly at your face.


Fear of your eyes - hazel - with the power to light up skin,

Like tattoo needles, tracing invisible lines,

Infinite possibilities of connection.


A promise of butterscotch and the sun.

A promise to look at you and dance with you,

Without my eyes closed.


But I was frightened I might see those eyes -grey –

Having stopped looking.

Had I turned (you kept blinking), maybe I‘ noticed.


I saw that girl and I saw you again, turning away.

I looked.

But her eyes were merely brown.

I finally face the possibility that yours were too.



Push or pull 

(magnetic distance)


I remind myself to push my feet into the floor

Feel it through the thick sole of my boots

The same Doc's you used to wear

Yours had roses on them though 

Their thorns were for protection

I think mine may have anti-magnets in them now.

Maybe (without me) you are ready for connection. 


At least I feel my feet on the floor,

I remind myself to breathe - but not too deeply -

I need to feel my feet connected to this floor

And not think about the air that connects us all

And would pull me away and then up, where

I'd be at the perfect hight to fall,

I'd blame myself for breathing

only for the rush I feel

only at this distance,

Where I think about letting you pull

me in again, hoping I can push

you - only to realise it doesn't work 

If I push and you pull.

Envoyé: 22:45 Tue, 14 March 2023 by : Lavina Emma age : 19