Not all things, she says, need to be ordered.

a safe as safe in love as houses

You drift through the afternoon in chat and memory.

There’s something wrong with my sister, Sky.

Was his voice strange because of the telephone, or because of something else?

The real grief is not having anyone to grieve with.

That.

A fortnight before I had met my doggy daddy I had lost my mother.

I was uncomfortable, and I could just tell that something was wrong.

That’s how things could keep happening.

You come to believe that the beast was meant to be there.

He is alone, moving like a soft fog

as if toys are born after nine months of hope

Stay for lunch.

the colours have started humming

I'm here for your sake.

I was also a giant purple squirrel.

and where else to go / but deeper?

And struggle she did.

My pen's ink wanders and doodles