My summer of love

Earlier in the week, someone asked me what I've been up to. 'Reading, writing, stuff ...' But mainly reading and writing, hanging out with my sister and my nephews, working, planning, walking and dreaming. It's true - I'm an abject failure of a social butterfly, although I did actually go OUT Friday night to the opening … Continue reading My summer of love

where this has nothing to do with me

Reaching for the wind in the branches, tickles fingertips like a feather on your thigh. In the water, you plumb the sea for cloaks of stingrays - the ripples cradling your body. You lay there until your feet and hands looked like crumpled paper, body a breathing corpse having  been diving for coins like a … Continue reading where this has nothing to do with me


Jealousy burns; seethes through my chest. Seeping into the hollow of my stomach, it runs a gauntlet through my breasts, piled high but grafted to thin bones.   I whittle away, because you're almost here, but just about gone. I must learn to sing euphorically; to jelly roll into the sea.   Water snatches at discarded ropes … Continue reading sea/earth