Because I'll never know you, and because I'll never set out on some pilgrimage to find you, I must conjure up your fizz of smells from my own kitchen bricolage.

The spiders knew I was back within seconds, eyes glinting eightfold from spyholes. And so they send their champion, who snaps into view like ink on a sail. She enters from above, stretches

as she kneels, sword at side, about de Rais. By all means sing out that his latest bride- to-be has changed her mind, choosing still more money over him, however filthy wealthy, charming.

A gentle smile

Laughed at plenty as the story goes, a concurrent feeling of desperation the middle way concludes, a fortuitous guess, jackels kiss tastes of lion, a syncopated riddle full of false leads,

Cliff tells us of the unseen Blitz buttoned into the city’s trousers. As chambers, ports, libraries crumbled like cake, felled dragons bellowing smoke, silence in the bedrooms.

The night train is passing again, rocking the mews and waking the puce. He stews, pushing plethora and puke, mumbling sick-chanted meows with a deuced-doggy lung.

bloodstains on my dressing gown. Dead leaves skate the stone. My backpack is full of half-read books and someone down there is trying to get my attention.