You say, Meet me here. It’s not far. You can work out the route. You say this at the far end of the sofa the middle has sunk down to form a cavern that I cannot navigate. Separated by this cavern by this cushion your arm straddles the gap to my side like a handlebar … Continue reading What can I do to help?
Mermaid, you married your house and you divorced yourself. As I pull you onboard, you seem battered by brooms, pale and lifeless, hanging like linen as I had expected. Draped around you is a flannel shirt and apron made of hot-pots and Tupperware boxes covered in eggs and spit. White dish cloths cling to your … Continue reading Housewife Lost at Sea
The small wooden box on her mantelpiece was stainedwith echoes of her paper-thin fingertips tapping the lid, lingering in the mist of dust. The lid arched like herback and the box was engraved in gold which matched the mustard-coloured fade-marks on the Persian rug.I ran my finger across the top. It felt like gravel. Touching … Continue reading An Elegy for a Box
Once, I was promised eternal youthbut I turned it down.In my nightgown, with wrinkled hands,a slightly scratched wedding ring and plaguedby a constant urge to sigh,I can’t help but wonder, dear, what you are doing now. How hungry I was for that fairy-dusted midnight sky!How sensible I was in closing the curtains,eventually. Before I was … Continue reading Wendy