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 Soon, she gave up the idea of the skeletal shadow in hot pursuit and poured herself a nice cup of tea.

behind the curtain

a stopped beetle

a still moth

beetle’s legs in the air

moth’s false eyes stared 

tongue

tongue

Co-written by Janet Jackson and myself using a poetry magnet kit

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a smoke ring circles the sun
beneath we burn

my loving friend

hands me ripe figs

torn open

flesh the colour of

my broken sex

crawled into bed

head cradled

in a lightless corner

of night

One for Di

After the goodbye
we all drank tea
together at your house.
Had nothing to say.
It seemed as if
we were no longer friends.

I went home
folded myself away
between the silk scarves
                 and the socks.