Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Seven: Consent by Hannah Williams

I say it with her. I say it for her. Then I let her say it with and for herself. We both learnt to say it. Before we are reduced. For you saw her innocence. What was it made of? It was laced with naivety Intricately woven with virtue. Hemmed with impeccability. You took each … Continue reading Sunday Stanza: Poem Twenty Seven: Consent by Hannah Williams