NCLA New Writing:
‘Cecilia’ by Antonia Cundy
Little porcelain doll; raven strands in curled crowns
Tied with thick black rope. White gossamer waves flow
Off your hollow eggshell body, down to black-tipped feet,
Black-knotted bows – spiders cautiously showing a leg.
Cupid shaped his weapon from your lips, but
Venus’ eyes gaze through shadow. A wooden pall
Crushed the light. Now fallen from your marble mantle
You lie here. In this dark, satin gloves are wool, lace trim
The same midnight-nothing as the coarse string
Of the rag doll’s plait. You may as well be nude.
Antonia Cundy is a first-year English literature student at Newcastle University who has been privately writing for years, and now wishes to venture into publication, after studying Plath at school triggered her particular interest for poetry.