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NOT LIKE A MOLLUSC IN A PEARLY SHELL
More like a wife, curved thigh to thigh and sculpted back to belly: held tight by tattoed arms and warmed.
AT NIGHT
I miss your bare bone head: moleskin soft and shaved.
Hotel. Echo.
A holiday in Whitby. A gypsy. And me. Red faced and eager anxious – heart beating and shallow breathing – catching the taste of fate from...
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