by Helen Ivory | Aug 15, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Witch No man can hold me. See – I blur the line between days, inhabit that space between sleep and wakefulness. The blue hour’s lung swells – Exhales – past fresh-laid hedges with their dark-ditched waters stirred by breath I...
by Sofía Masondo | Aug 14, 2024 | More Word & Image
ANY LAST WORDS. (Chapter 3 of film Back on Home Soil) A friend says, grief leaves everyone behind She ruminates on her words and goes grief leaves no one behind It shows in the way grief leaves a fraction in memory: Recollections once pristine are...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 14, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Lochan In the circle of its trees the lochan shines midnight silk. I could be a lily printed on its sheen but silt would fill my hair if I floated so I dip only my body as I swim and when I scramble out naked, every spike of peach fuzz is coated....
by Helen Ivory | Aug 13, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
symptoms she is aggregate concrete and grit held together in a human shape lying on her side knees drawn up flesh tensing to stone and tendons in flames the weight of her body pressed into the mattress leaves a shallow hollow once she’s gone a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 12, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
crow’s landing glimmer blades the field’s lightly fogged grass green struggles through autumnal vague chill flop a crow drops in black flurry sky-fall awkward hops forward eye-dark clever Martin Potter...
