by Helen Ivory | Apr 1, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Nocturne by Tea You sit alone on the deck, under the night stars that stir no romantic wonder, just dim night lights that fade with day as everything does. They may as well be lamps studded to the firmament as the ancients believed, or icy little...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 31, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
The Woman Who Drank Us Up She was the woman who drank us up, gripped us in her graveyard grasp and drained us, until we were almost uncreated, loose skin and slack bones. She was the woman who smeared our lids with honey until blisters, sugar pink...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 30, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Maravillossa The combustion process Begins with your eyes Scorching one layer of my cells, On a wet day That keeps us into each other. My heart beats loudly thud! Or is the thug in the folds Of me that curls around The fingertips and the...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 28, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
Exorcism All day, you scurry about with your little net, like a hunter of moths, things of darkness, duplicitous fire. You are diligent in your efforts. You search them down and slaughter them on the spot, steadfast and efficient. The house hums...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 27, 2015 | Prose & Poetry
wintering gathering my eight lives – the bridge, my balcony burying my eight lives – the tunnel, my stairwell guarding my eight lives – the road, my roof remembering my eight lives – the tightrope, my window Michael Loveday lives in...
