The poet, Caresse, invited me to come into this. The this, so broad, so deep it has no horizon. Precious, priceless jewels so tiny they exist in theory, So vast they are incalculable. There is no longer any me in anything of value: The tiny being at the centre of my universe now has a … Continue reading An invitation
Day: November 28, 2017
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Ada hums on the arm of the sofa eyes half closed, heavy from watching the steady sheeting of rain enveloping the house in pink noise, rising and falling lulling the cat to sleep.
Sarah Bonnar 