The Composite Review – poetry, short stories and more by extraordinary young writers.
Entombed on a stretcher, youHanded me an apple hairpin, whichMom (accidentally) drained down the sink. Favorite. No one foresaw our weekly playdates–sitting on synthetic stools,Baking honey-soaked cookies– As a harbinger of separation. Gone. Project work meantAutomatic partnership between us English prodigies.Until you deserted your own place Ghost. (You didn’t even give me the chance to ask for your phone … Continue reading Jessica Kim: ‘k(NO)w’
Scoop it up with your hands as it trickles down a sleepy river Styx, blow on it until the ripples morph into Posiedon’s tidal wavesPluck it from the laurel wreaths but beware of tasting its doubled-tongued berries,cradle it between your calloused palms until it falls into a deep tranceShine it in front of a mirror to see the reflections echoing down … Continue reading Jessica Kim: ‘How do you catch a dream?’
I've always cared about you, and for once, this isn't my pride talking.You were more than just a trophy to me.I'm sorry I wasn't able to express that sooner.I sometimes wonder if you'll ever know that, but most likely not.I was always the more observant of the two of us, and I'm happy to keep … Continue reading Isabel de Silva: ‘The Confession’
The steam riseswith my hand – the glass of red presses my lips;thick ruby water in candlelight, I sipto the last year and to the next.My breasts tap the froth of wateras I sink lower into my slump. Knees raised,I reach for my black flannel drapedacross the side and plunge it intothe murky depths.Dripping wet, … Continue reading I. James: ‘New Year’s Eve’
Consume each other in love,but stand side by side.Let the life you live and breathe foreverbe made on your own, but together.Remember to give and receive plenty,and trust in the strength of your souls binding for eternity. I. James Isabelle is a 24-year-old PGCE English student at the University of Cambridge. Her Poetry has been … Continue reading I. James: ‘To the newlyweds’
My memories are very quiet these days: these days are slow and sloth-like, ignoring the news in the garden sun. Sober since the birth of this pandemic. Epic weight off to just sit and breathe in freshly cut grass and lids closed with an amber-curtain glow. I. James Isabelle is a 24-year-old PGCE English student … Continue reading I. James: ‘My memories are very quiet these days’
A heart like yours, I wonder, will it ever – just suddenly - stop beating? I cower to the shared fear of what is to, or may, be… I cover the rotting-dead thought of you with the black backs of my lids and my eyes cry, and my shoulders sigh you off of me quick. … Continue reading I. James: ‘A heart like yours’
The odour of sweet living death rushes out when I break open your tomb, unseal the cheap reliquaries. Lilies.Death in life. ‘Error overtakes the unteachable.’ And littered all around the flat the things you found a laugh, signs inthe bathroom, magnets on the fridge: ‘I’m on a gin diet. So far I’ve lost two days!’ … Continue reading James McGovern: ‘North of Cairo’
The Bridge calls out to me,But I do not respond.“There’s peace in my deep.” She says on a loop,But I can’t find sleep.I am potential food for her waters,Staring wide-eyed out the car windowAt the fishermen that dot the seaHustlers who hover aboveHer cold ravenous belly.“Get out of the car,Get out of the car.Come a … Continue reading Obehi Aigiomawu: ‘The Bridge’
Those words I did not say,Went from heavy, to light as hay.Went from recurring, to sparse and vague.Went from words that haunt me,To a harmless grave.But, someday you’ll call.Someday, you’ll come.And, the words will gain back their weight.From a crawl, they will stand up and pace.They will blink from their deathAnd rememberThey haven’t been said. … Continue reading Obehi Aigiomawu: ‘Words I did not say’
