The door is always dark Or never there at all Imperceptible, It leaks through a pin prick Dense dark droplets… Read more The tower
The door is always dark Or never there at all Imperceptible, It leaks through a pin prick Dense dark droplets… Read more The tower
Small face, looks up quietly Wagged by the tail As I tie you to the box And walk inside, Two… Read more Small face
Small shite it grows in the light a forest of green in a bucket of skyfe twisting onward and upward… Read more The arborist’s first grandchild (one in, one out)
Stitches seep across burnt skinwounds that weep ounce sewing pinssinew shapes turn sutured tracksalong yellow shoulders, down purple back Green… Read more Fences
Split toes crumbling, crack, as the body rots appendages are the first to go Lepered flowers snap, under bruised leather… Read more Cleaver