I hit the boy in a daydream. He strolled his motorbike straight out onto the highway where my 50km an hour cruise in flipflops and sun dress was abruptly confused into a squall of bent metal, shredded petals and grating skin. It was a bright morning, the scent of papaya and grass smoke on the … More Through the window
Lilium xx in her glass, brightly she furls and uncurls her long limbs, xxxxxxdusted xxxxxxwith tiny creatures xxxxxxof light. xx almost naked in the thin glow of this quiet table, beside the car keys and a flotsam of letters with plastic windows, she slow … More Lilium – in her glass, brightly.
The purple flower fits exactly the heavy bee whose little body, swerving like a drunkard on a string, can yet land in exactly the right way to please her. He opens her slightly, she shakes her head then quits her pouting. A gasp; she quivers. The bee drives on and, fully embraced in the throat … More The heavy bee