CALLING

  Boys came calling after school, sometime between six and eight, before the summer- longer days under the swell of frustration. Boys came calling after school, halting homework and hunting, looking to come closer to a truth but I held mine firm, in the door- halfway, me half in, half confused as to what they […]

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CLASSIFIED UNDER NO NAME

Would I have kept you closer, longer, if you’d been a soft toy that found my empty arms when the nights were endless instead of your characteristically classy chaos the posters never chose to optimize or were we meant to be just chalk running into the deluge of the rainstorm? Should I have been less […]

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FRESH PERSPECTIVES AT THE MIDWAY MARK

  I pulled a seat up along the far side of the first hill of this midway through life’s climb and sat myself towards country, having been stripped for so long like bare bark by too many cities. Green blood poured upwards from your soil onto my skin until there was nothing left to separate […]

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BLANK CANVASES

  Light can be ubiquitous, even in the darkness of youth but it’s not always lucid- sometimes it twists shadows into shapes that seem so much more sinister. Innocence is a bright spark that can be knocked down to stunted shadow by a thoughtless twist in the tale or a pedestal pitched at an imperfect […]

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GOOD DAY

  They call it Good Friday, Mum initiates the conversation early for fish and chips and somewhere, not far from subconscious, I near a church and its pressure leaning in on her sudden sway for the taste of something fishy, less meaty, today, on this Good Friday where tales tell of salt and vinegar and […]

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THIS DESERT WHERE WE DROWNED THE DANCE

  This Desert where We Drowned the Dance Guttural; pertaining to a particular sound at the back of the mouth, there, in that spot not quite reachable, still quite parched. Water; to sprinkle, to moisten. I do this to quench a longing I can’t reach though I cannot hold this liquid just like I couldn’t […]

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ATTENTION

  I glisten to distract, like a snowflake; the sparkle before the melt. Particles of fleeting perfection floating through the hands of time, falling through all these imperfections. If only my clutch were tighter, truer, if only I knew more of my own truth, too many skins already slipped through, too much prediction put on […]

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