by Helen Ivory | May 1, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
A Fist Full of Bees (for Bob) The bumble bees were furry like your favourite cat You caught them one by one stroked them gently and held them in your tiny fist. Their whirring wings tickled your skin as they buzzed. When your mother opened...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 30, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Affection Why do I feel guilt when you say I want to get close, but my back hurts? Yesterday on our walk I saw a fox turn his tail toward me, the leaves parting for his body. I kept thinking: the fox is my persistence. I know the Fate he feels −...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 29, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
She Was Sweeter Than Rain In her sleep, the next morning seemed ridiculous. Inside the effect was . . . psychological. The stress of a first time in unbreathing skin revolted the feverish night and concentration. The hunger was into something...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 28, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Big Lies Aplenty Language is a tricky business, full of shading and nuance, Power and play. I say one thing, they hear another. I say this But mean that. I’ve lied some, told the truth on occasion, Talked nonsense with a straight face, preached gospels I...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 27, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
[Don’t think I didn’t think it] Don’t think I didn’t think it running down streetlamp-lit streets, skinny jeans, razorburn between my ribs and the phone between my fingers, digital clock tick-tocking six hours until you needed to be up. Don’t think I...
