1159 1 1
|
our eyes misted white as goatskin
|
9500
|
and I wake with my hands full of night, saying –
|
12053
|
She says: Princessing is not a process. I have skirts to be lifted.
|
98165
|
droplets of blood
on the green and beige tile
|
1689108
|
hooves moon dark latch eyes rope / Bess the landlord's daughter, the landlord's blackeyed daughter / gun breasts dress shame shouts blood blood blood
|
102300
|
|
118611
|
feet soft as eyelids on the tarmac
|
6221
|
|
12144
|
there is a woman called Kristie Loggan who lives on the exact opposite side of the earth (which, unfortunately for her, is the sea below New Zealand)
|
10844
|
Not being able to remember whether I fucked a man
|
6762
|
a phone number
in permanent blue magic
laundry marker
|
83200
|
Weeds, schist, an Artesian well: élan in a heavenly forge. Sniffling goats, a mossy cairn. A portal divides the void. There is a human hand here below the crumbling parapet. The crotch of time A bridge between…
|
127241
|
I'm in our bed eating yesterday's pizza and chain-watching pirated foreign horror films
|
9712
|
your hand in mine is as small as minnows
|
107431
|
There is a the reason for the theft of people and the melting of gold
|
