Paths of Grey

Chris Iacovou is in the final year of his combined honours degree in Creative Writing with Drama and Theatre Studies.

We are rocks.


We start in the mouth. Jagged.

The flow shows our path.

My neighbours jostle to lead as

we slink over our bed.

Fish nudge us aside to prey

on floating debris.


We drift past factories that were

once green spaces.

We never apologise for collisions,

they shape our grey faces.

Elements cradle us and dictate us

forever. Without one another,

we couldn’t build stone beaches.


The skin of our home is tinged –

mud – earth – man

our progress shielded from trees.

We mould each other in the dark,

as you do behind doors,

and make ourselves smooth.