Jo-Ella Sarich lives in Petone, New Zealand beside the beautiful Wellington harbour. She is a first-generation New Zealander of an English/Scottish mother and Dutch father (she also has an Irish grandfather). She has a husband and two small girls, and has recently started writing again in her spare time. Her poems have appeared in Tuck Magazine, and one will be appearing in the upcoming Poetry New Zealand Yearbook 2017.
Spindly legs meet unusual collusion
Illusory though, shadows moving slowly beneath
look to open sanguine jaws
it’s not real, I tell her,
go back to sleep.
Naked as the flame
pulls bright, palls across
into place like cleats
I’m slim, aerodynamic now,
skimming the coastlines of your psyche.
If the smallest creature looks to see
a shadow of itself, what’s left
for lumpy ones like me.
Your face is stretched aghast like ghosts
across the water, but I’m
too deep in to see,
struggling for the air all
not the tube worms, those
evade time, sulphur-breathing
holes I search for contact, some
collusion in the meaning it’s all
science, but I’m
trapped within these spokes,
certain only of
the spool with which I weave
and feign belief, until
the surface has the time to heal.