You look into the stream for your reflection
But the water flows to spite you, gathering white foam.
What did you expect to see –
Difference, similitude, or similarity?
You tremble at the anticipated ecstasy
Of punching through yourself,
Of distorting yourself as the water distorts you.
Thrusting your hand in, you bring out a stone.
It shifts your pulse, imperceptibly.
It's darker now. The water's set alight,
The sky has shattered into pieces.
You tilt one: faces, fractured and multiple.
Fingers, wrapping around glass
And tightening, hoping to close the gap.
To restore you, as the water restores you.
Francesca Gardner is a previously unpublished poet from Lincolnshire, currently in her third year studying English at Magdalen College, Oxford. She enjoys reading Late Medieval and Romantic literature. Find her on Twitter here: @frankiegracex.