“Parkinson’s, Stage Four” by Celine Low

Beside my bed an old black and white picture: she, veiled
white against my black suit, we stand
back against the world.

I gave her my world. She was not afraid
to take it. She made it
hers. I seeded her garden and grow

reversed, sinking
into earth, limbs sick
with black spots.

Sometimes the head shakes, cries
against my will. I will
be dead soon. When I began

to wet the bed she began
to need her own space.
On the bed I’m still

leaving a hole
for her in the crook
of where my arm was.


first appeared in Literary Yard



Celine Low is a nomad writer, painter, dancer and bathroom-singer. She holds an MA in English Literature, and her writing is either published or forthcoming in the Muddy River Poetry ReviewFifty Word StoriesOne Sentence PoemsBALLOONS Literary Journal, and 9Tales from Elsewhere, among others. You can find her on Instagram @_ckye.

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