scratches in the sunlight/…cassettes   Jackdaws & witches tapping watches, stripping you to the bone. Some still can't say your name without stretching all the wrong vowels. I hear your voice. I'm ankle-deep in bluebells. My red penknife unfolds, I'm scratching your initials. Trapdoors every Monday morning. Cornflowers, my boots are soiled. The grey birds, … Continue reading Jackdaws & Witches. →