felt

damp paper

watch the margins bleed

ink from pen absorbs hastily

soaking in pigments from all directions

the paper rises like tiny sand dunes

 

felt-like and telling

 

salt tears

materialised fears in blue ovals, dotted i and crossed t

the page consumes and bares dappled wounds

 

 

 

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Lidget Green


Sky blue ford with steering wheel lock

Play football in the late nineties heat

Behind our concrete square

Our terraced houses lent on each other

My friend shared the name of my mother

She was two years older

A neighbour, far bolder than I

We played house-house in the loft of our houses that held each other

And chased each other down the back street

We all live, apart from her;

Still playing football in the late nineties heat

 

 

 

In memory of Beena, a childhood friend x