The boy no longer clings to my waist.I wish he was,because this room smells sterile in a way that makes me unsettled,and it would be so uncouth to cling to you,as our tears fall,and a man tells us what we already know.I don’t know how I will tell the boy. He’s a man, now,but every…

Once the night has fallen,the day you have lived is lost.I’ve told you this,so many times,that of course,I expect everyone to know,but I still shine, forlorn under the glowing moon,with eyes, wide like my hips,my lips treated to the taste of my salty, insatiable tears.I always forget,that when the sun sets,there is nothing left but…

My nail polish is chipped,but I am cheery,chasing the high of my garden defying the odds and blooming before my eyes. There is a child round my waist,chipper and cherub cheeked,asking for ice cream,with pleading brown eyes that I recognise as my own. Then there is you, Blue,prying the boy from my body,careful not to…

The walls have a warmth to them, because you are standing and staring at them, spilling sunshine and asking my opinion on paint swatches. I am overwhelmed. There are so many walls. So many rooms. I have so little to give, just my dresses in a bent and struggling cardboard box, and as much of…