Reading a Friend in London
Comforting. I pot-lucked a magazine about sadness in fences, found your name dangling by an odd number. It was not like any other page: your hand reached out to pat mine
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- 843 reads
I want you to know that I am doing this for you
My dressing gown is shearing my skin I am sleep derived and overheating. The only way I can trick this pinprick of daylight that’s left is to treat myself like a child lie convincingly
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- 828 reads
The Outcast - Chapter Two
Some days are okay. They pass by in a blur. And then there are those days that take forever to end. Today's one of those days.
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- 630 reads
Freestyle
I thought of Pete speaking magic in his leather jacket, pointing out over a watercolour city, talking about the wonders of creation, making my friend blush just with his pro-noun-ci-ation,
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- 798 reads
apart from 8
thighs tight, ankles like cricket’s legs, shoes as thin as needles, hair blonde, cornfield blonde at late summer sunset,
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- 1218 reads
The Troubadour
I followed its arrow advice, on this, the hottest of days: quickly straddled the stile, left my dress panting where it fell, watched my white vest dissolve to sugared rice paper, licked
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- 1143 reads
The bride
Hewn from a strata of galaxies demure Inured with a witchcraft heartrendingly pure The bride wears her wedding dress like haute couture Dressed in a heavenly gown made by Channel or Dior
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- 918 reads
Candle wax sky
Pellucid blue-eyes, whoever told you to-be-wise whoever told you, you could dream, beyond those? Monolithic, moonlit, midnight skies to drink the midnight curtain of sleep into waking hours
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- 1062 reads
His Muse
When Beth returns after three days missing, Jake is angry that his muse left without word.
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- 1102 reads