Paper and dust

Paper and dust

Their shelves have always held mys­tery. Resist the urge to touch — cloth and paper and paint. I am close enough to breathe in Catullus and all his earthly urges, now sealed and almost eru­dite; So many spines here, leather and lust, dirt and dis­tress....
Numb in the whirlwind

Numb in the whirlwind

I stand, arms out­stretched as everything i know whirls around me Smashed into drift­wood and debris by the tor­nado of cir­cum­stance They say justice is blind but I can’t help feel she’s blind­folded right now, Held to ransom as random injustice rains...
Time and love and magic on our side

Time and love and magic on our side

We may not win the battle, she says. And while there’s always fear, some­where down in the heart-sore depths of watching our chil­dren grow, there’s always fear that things can change in an eyeblink, that the wing-free light­ness of the trilling dan­cers of...
Unspoken

Unspoken

Inspired by a Tumblr post I now can’t find… if you recog­nise the story, please con­tact me! There’s some­thing about scarlet cush­ions and 1940s jazz, Dark bars and tiny crystal gob­lets filled with cloying golden wine And a promise of desire...
Precious

Precious

These are moments that you treasure, just sit­ting of a sunset, Shoulder to shoulder as you remin­isce. And whether it’s Those memories of women’s decisions, the baby borne or the Journey halted, the intimacies and the viol­a­tions, or whether It’s gasping...