Return to CONTENTS 2013


1 | 2 | 3 | 4




when we were old for hours each day you would look out of the window as if I were coming towards you   from the other side of the sea     piercingly slow   like a knifing light lifting the lip of haze    only ever wading        only ever to my knees





Contents | Previous Author | Next Author | About this Author

Permanent link to this article: