These wet petals of cupped liquor
\nare kept for myself.
\nCast in bright bullets of cerulean;
\nno more than twelve,
\nlike bitter cellar wine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Moved against peppery pane,
\nthe vine-ripe rain cries a warm line
\nbehind white curtain,
\nnot unlike the cleanest of flames
\ndrawn up in cuts of chlorine,
\nfeverish,
\nwashing and rushed of a lung. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Curiosity has killed my tongue
\nwith lacy shadows and glassy eyes,
\nsharp like sea salt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So, steal high noon into Sicilian quarters
\nAnd I am pouring into glass.
\nFly-trapped in tea tree cotton candy, nothing
\nbut a pressed daisy. A fractured frieze
\nCramping.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A masterpiece.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rinsing is the evening cool
\ncutting warm afternoon;
\ndried, preserved and left lace-curtained
\nfor another month or two.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maeve Moran is an Irish student currently studying English Literature and Education Studies at Durham University. Maeve is absolutely fascinated by language and words and voice and uses poetry to explain the things she simply cannot express properly any other way. <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" These wet petals of cupped liquor are kept for myself. Cast in bright bullets of cerulean; no more than twelve, like bitter cellar wine. Moved against peppery pane, the vine-ripe rain cries a warm line behind white curtain, not unlike the cleanest of flames drawn up in cuts of chlorine, feverish, washing and rushed of … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1794","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-sW","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1794","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1794"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1794\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1795,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1794\/revisions\/1795"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1794"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1794"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1794"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}