Poetry
Ewen Glass

All It Took Was An Extraction

He comes home,
cheek sore, warmth
spidering up his jaw.
Is there metal in
there somewhere?
Saliva pools, he feels
a fool to speak to his
partner. Tries, sighs –
the counter-sigh of
many years. Typing
on his phone now,
logistics no doubt,
myriad mistakes,
both at huff’s edge
by the time it’s passed:
I luv seeing yr face.
In the playful carry
of many years they
arrive together at the
next line: all it took
was an extraction.

imagine what we could do if we were fire

we could 
conquer those
inefficiencies;
 suffocate
faster

Ewen Glass (he/him) is a screenwriter and poet from Northern Ireland who lives with two dogs, a tortoise and a body of self-doubt; his poetry has appeared in the likes of Okay Donkey, Maudlin House, HAD, Poetry Scotland and One Art. Bluesky/X/IG: @ewenglass