Leading on from last week, here’s another poem that I wrote in my final year of university which hasn’t yet been released anywhere else! Science Fiction is intended to have Frankenstein/body-snatching vibes with a fun, semi-romantic twist, so I hope you enjoy reading through this poem!
Science Fiction
She is coffee rings on anatomy textbooks,
her quill dissecting the brains, the nerves,
separating droplets of blood to form a new,
breathing thing—barely breathing, barely
allowed to enter the natural world,
but she has created it, and so she is content.
He is waiting under the gallows as the body
drops, scrambling to capture the freshest specimen,
allowing himself gasps of air as minuscule rewards
at every step of the harrowing mission, stealing away
under darkness, under the haze of oil-lit night
that is not yet an electric cacophony.
She is pencilling in a date for her diary,
between mutton-chopped lectures and study
by candlelight, washing the echoes of life
from her hands, hoping for the day when she,
finally, can take ownership of her own practice
and present to the world her magnum opus.
He is leading a knock-kneed horse cart
through the sprawling cobbles, hanging
around corners to avoid the helmeted busybodies,
until there is a courtyard—there is a door,
and here is his knuckle, against it, desperate
yet quieted, trembling but muted.
She is sprinting to her second half,
unknown except for a passed note,
and she is opening her world to him,
receiving his unholy gift with relish,
restraining herself from diving in,
sharpest tools prepared and waiting.
He is unsettled, momentarily,
by the frenzied passion, wide eyes,
harried steps, insistent whispering,
until he realises, candle wax crawling
down his hand as he ‘assists’, that
this is beauty—this is purest love.
Here, she is his Frankenstein,
and he, her hooked disciple.
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Oskar Leonard 