at the world’s close the snow will tint pink
algae accruing in soft depressions sun cups drinking
heat in deepening gulps swallowing ice caps
with ultraviolet sensitivities
walking in watermelon snow rubs off on cuffs
turns soles bright red to call it water or fruit
is of course not to mention blood
there is a bird that eats light with its feathers
a blacker shade than black where line forgets
itself shape breaks red
drops into nothing
to know it is to see an eclipse nearby colours
glowing bright as an exercise in contrasts to know it
is of course to name it after and of paradise
Eloise Hendy is a postgraduate student in Creative Writing at the University of Edinburgh, and the Creative Director of 50GS, a digital literary journal. Her poems have recently been published in Adjacent Pineapple, Crows Nest Zine and The Purple Breakfast Review.