don't bury the best part of yourself.

i wash my world in the salty tang of emotions wave i peg out my whys and wherefores on a line that unashamedly matters.

I am stepping over the worn sill of dark into light. In the cloud break old eyes offer ‘bring yourself to the table’. She moves her hand;...

Missing someone is a mother who leaves the front door ajar

Could we find the bench in the mist? Could we find the bench now? Would we sit? Would we sit and recall ourselves, reckless and heady,...

earth and moon coupled by gravity, in each others gaze they swop origin stories, yesterday full of longing today reflecting awe tomorrow...

I met a woman whose slowness proceeded her she shimmered the park open the leaves lapped her grace, watching her was a gift that stripped...

we crave our emblematic sharp swords ringing on the anvil, pheonix in the flame burning in re-birth. But what of the waiting, the winters...

Spoken softly in utero, handed in raw slipperiness, roll call to a bigger story of letters fading under lichen. Sewn into school jackets,...

The grit in the oyster keeps me from sleeping. Binds me to turn up.

The wind blew leaves, copper snow into the blue. The trees flying, the sky wild with glee.

Leaf-mould breathes the mist lattice, orange streetlight fingers the edges, the ground is sheathed not yet ready to be stripped

This magnetic fish with the letter ‘l’, there when I went to clear out the abandoned toys. What use is just the letter ‘l’? They say they...

Beginning is beyond the lonely and the empty. A footfall into patience a beckoning of hope a recommitment to blood flowing a reconnection...

My small act of resistance is to lie in the middle of the farm track at 6am, watch the wild sky and hold the fallen. the MOD momentarily...

Taken in hand, in the round, feeling for bruises. The ones not breached are snugged in paper, to grow ever sweeter. The ones lost to the...

i am along time away from my switchboard. Then memory pulses reconnection to your universe its a vivid slap like bringing breath to a...

My daughter made it It sits on my mantlepiece It is just between me and my daughter strength is gifted through love a carved stick with a...

our naked hands born to the quarry born to the piecing together of what we reach out to.

Maybe we all have a layer of Iridescence hidden under skin. When you turn my body over, the rainbow will finally reveal.