January 2021
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For I I want, and I want. I have learnt of your body, and the way she co-exists with mine. My tongue, my pesky mind. My over eager hand, my overthink. Even now I dream of home ownership, and then some. Maybe marriage?Maybe a distant vision, like a neighbour’s cat clawing at a window.Or that
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So it goes, most of the time; the page turns and withers away. Those dreamsI’ve brushed past in my youth – where did they go? Into the drawer of a dusty office, into somebody’s waiting hand. I have not written, truly, in months. Where did I keep the key, where did I fall from, where
ugly stage 