Revised a bit... I dreamt I held a wren; Its eyes huge with fear, And body warm and frantic, Pressing a throbbing breast Into my palm.
It's a hot day when I visit, I swat bluebottles away as I walk down the drive. Lightening bugs, ladybirds. You open the door slowly; Skin loose, skull huge, voice slurred.
The Swiss Cottage is a two hundred year old Hansel and Gretel-style pub that sits uncomfortably in the middle of a busy inner-London interchange,...
A body I thought would be mine forever Is creasing, folding, changing shape; Skin becoming mapped by lines that show Each tendon ridge, each blue-...