There are dark clouds in the sky. Prussian blue in colour, they swirl above my head as your image dances further down the street. In the breeze, there’s the faint hum of music coming from a park over on the other side of town. The smell of chips makes me lick my lips, as… Read more

  There’s a row of sycamore trees and your hand is in mine. It’s just after eleven and there’s so much to say but the silence that rings out between us is more than enough somehow. No words, just the warmth of our flesh as we walk down streets we haven’t passed through since we were… Read more

  All around me are rocks and winding fields, and as mud creeps from my shoes up to my trousers, the wind pushes me this way and that. With no one else about, I’m at one with nature, and although it annoys me knowing I’m so small, to be natural in a world of machines… Read more

  Your keys on the bedside table. The same games you play. The same girl as you always used to be. Sometimes beautiful. Sometimes afraid. Always needy. In your satchel, you keep a journal with most of its pages ripped out. On the few pages that remain is a list of all the men you’ve… Read more

  Bodies in flight. Bodies as energy on a rock that shoots through space. Bodies as planets as souls as comets as bullets that pulse and vibrate at the merest mention of your name. If you strip it back, make sure to take it to the bone. If you let them see what’s inside of… Read more

  There’s a stairwell bathed in the dark glow of late evening. It spirals and spirals like the curls of her hair, those curls that wrap around my arms as I struggle to balance on the tightrope between day and dream. There’s the sound of rain hitting the window as she searches for a way… Read more

  She spits into the sink and then counts the number of rings around her eyes until she falls asleep dreaming of electricity. She chews her nails and draws back the curtains while poking her jelly rolls that seem twice as big in the glare of the light shining in through the window. She’s a nail… Read more

  Lovers as moths around the light bulb and lovers as empty soda cans and the stains of dead gods smeared upon sunless skies. Lovers as lost highways and dust particles that circle plastic leaves on plastic trees that adorn your local doctor’s surgery, the one you collect your mental pills from. Lovers as the stains on… Read more

  When she holds her breath and grips the steering wheel, the lights change from red to green, and yet she doesn’t move. Is she afraid? Is she numb? Is she aware that her mascara has run and the people she works with will know she’s been crying again? None of it matters of course, because… Read more