The steady hurt of your beating heart. The still untangible death of Copernicus, and those tiny almost invisible hairs on your upper lip that tremble and pulsate when you see I’m nearby. But not now. Now you’ve got bellyache. I can tell by the way you walk. And you’ve been crying again, girl. You’ve… Read more

  We’re walking towards that place I keep dreaming about. Every other night now for the past two weeks, it keeps inexplicably appearing just before I’m about to wake up. It’s a row of buildings in a part of town that’s off the beaten track. Half the buildings are boarded up, while the remaining ones… Read more

  Next to the bridge downtown, the one that disappears into the clouds, your shadow moves across fresh snow until it rests its head on my shoulder. You were once my girl, but now you’re my ghost. I’m sure you would take great delight in knowing this. Can just imagine the grin on your lips and… Read more

  Electricity dances across the fillings in your teeth but you’re too bewildered to notice so you just eat your blueberries head down walking through streets that speak a language you don’t understand. Your life’s a mess of beer and headaches and newspapers full of chips and pockets of tissues and mints and filter tips… Read more

  Beneath a dream of a black moon, I wrap these words around you. Beneath a sky that’s both mirror and womb, there’s an image in my mind of a girl against the world. She’s both higher than a mountain and as low as the belly of a snake as it slithers through blades of grass… Read more

  These useless mirrors, they show everything and nothing. They show your image. They show your tears, but you’re not here, and that’s all I really know. These bags of bones that surrounded like sound, they drown me like the black waves that crawl to the foot of my bed each night hellbent on pulling… Read more

  Away from the wind and rain, I took shelter in a no-name store along the high street. Wiping my face and warming my bones while stood at the cigarette kiosk, there was some girl next to a display case of cookery books written by that dick off TV with the big teeth, and this girl,… Read more

  Down an alley that branches off from the church, there’s a bench where I sometimes go and sit after dark. The bench is damp and hasn’t been painted in years, and I’m pretty sure no one else uses it apart from me. Which is good, because it’s my bench, now. All around it, there are… Read more

  In one breath we suck in the past and a thousand tonnes of dust, and then with the next, we inhale summer and honey and the love of eyes that speak of a season where the leaves fall and cover lakes like an alien skin. Y’know, like when you were a kid and you grazed your… Read more