I need to be wrapped. Tight. In the white-starched sheets Of a funeral parlour. I’ll lay Silent and still With small wet breaths....

‘The silence was heavy with eternity’ (Rose Tremain, Sacred Country) The room vibrated an empty sound, My fingers brushed the thin new...

I’m your online operator. A ‘surgeon simulator’ if you will. A single, white-gloved finger eradicating earthly ills. Specimens on my wall...

Compressed thumbs numb Tucked between Chair arms and thighs Numbed dead like The amygdala of my brain. He who pressed his groin Against...

Going back For a second chance Is not easy It’s like putting on A damp bathing suit Cold to the skin Tough to slide into Terribly...