Rabbit gazed with fairly no unease, like this, over the awkward shapes issuing, one by one by one by one from her own soft mouth and she sounded (to these hot ears) to be speaking from just behind the curtain; almost-present. She roller coasted her eyes around her nose and I liked it. So, she … Continue reading Behind the curtain
i watched a wet cormorant on a rock in a tide pool, her drape wings seeking heat from the bleak october. and at noon i thought of you at your grandmother's funeral, in the miniature jewels of the yew tree, beneath lichen fur. i imagined you in your annie hall get-up, cradling a clutch of … Continue reading a clutch of gerbera.
still i find her, on the sill, in the fading birthday flowers, in the thirsty vase. a stray hair in the bath, her scrawl on some scrap paper. a receipt, screwed in denim. pocket and breathe for a moment, forever, her sillage as I pass the chair she favoured. i hear her songs; of course, her … Continue reading her ghost.
nickreeves 