we’re written in the trees, darling
she said, the summer vegetarian,
beets of papaya peel paisley on our blanket
i read the trees all summer
by october, the words had yellowed –
fading, they fell, ugly and twisted from the sky
when the freeze set in,
no more words were written, nothing punctuated the silence;
there were only
the stars.
Monika Swiatek currently works and resides in London. She is passionate about writing and photography, finding that the two often intertwine into intricate patterns worth exploring. She is currently working on her first collection. More of her writing and photography can be found here