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.

At first, the pressure, like thumbs into eyeballs. Later softness; pace slowing, the releasing of rules.

Grass Green is an itchy colour, a trickster. It won’t come politely to your side, always there, beyond noticing some days but in the...

Brimming. Rim full. you never know what tension holds the whole.

The fields stretch out and suggest no path. receiving you, they spread your silence across their green.

I am not my State. skin-state porous, mindscape particulate lost and [con]fused in this crowd looking at the ground when they shout...

Thrown. Rolling, an over and over, wide eyes now heavenward, now intimate with the mud. A freedom of chipped edges, and the finality of...

In half light, a lurch, a pull of tide through shingle, trawling for the story of my belonging here in this room.

Often i am standing with Bruno Ganz, sometimes i drink coffee with Peter Falk. desire is kept in the breast feathers.

My branches reach up through your branches. Symbiotic, the wind rocks something deep within us both.

Water speaks to land We are compatriots. I stream in your bed We are held by each other Swelling grooving in rhythm You know I ask for...

And be still enough To catch the room settle back And not mind you. Stay long enough For the traversing light to resume.