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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryPrelude to a grope span012 years 8 months ago
StoryMeanwhile at the bar a drunkard muses span012 years 8 months ago
StoryMaybe I mistook you span012 years 8 months ago
StoryRubbish span012 years 8 months ago
StorySwimming span012 years 8 months ago
StoryNeck back span012 years 8 months ago
StoryRachel, I bought a new red coat span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThe romance of crime span012 years 8 months ago
StoryNo more moon till morning span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Bee Team span012 years 8 months ago
StoryTill you get the shape right span012 years 8 months ago
StoryRebellion span012 years 8 months ago
StorySavings span012 years 8 months ago
StoryLove in the Park span012 years 8 months ago
StoryRelief span012 years 8 months ago
StoryPurse span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThose girls like electrical currents span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Ovary Aunt span012 years 8 months ago
StorySolution span012 years 8 months ago
StorySunday span012 years 8 months ago
StoryPJ Harvey span012 years 8 months ago
StoryPhotos I wish I had taken span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThings that I have found on pavements span012 years 8 months ago
StoryReiki span012 years 8 months ago
StoryThat must have been hard span012 years 8 months ago

My stories

Cherry

Here, download your brain tape

I know things have been tough, but it is ok. You are ok. You carry satchels inside your ribcage, frienships earring rest on your mantelpiece,
Cherry

Swim

If it was a glacier, or a river where fish season the surface like platelets, you would dive it, hang by your belly in liquid trusting the architecture of your machinery to currents.
Cherry

The connect

The connect The oh fuck moment breaks against you and your gut, your stomach embraces you like an air bag, your fists sweat, they are car batteries leaking acid

Your heart doesn't look like a valentine

What is a heart other than a fact: a radio fluting french disco, 4 head boys holding doors, a traffic jam of atoms, a plug socket overcrammed, a sound system of lub-dub,
Poem of the week

What I wanted to shout while the steps were moving

Dear beautiful stranger who stared at me on the escalator - I think we could make something happen. I have seen a house with walls white as pages. We could take it.

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