she rolls across the table small, curled, unassuming one of those not uncapped, not set free not chosen by thousands of tiny tongues to reign and birth a generation eggs to be coaxed into sweet, dancing workers freddie mercury plays on the radio the bin lorry arrives outside beeping and grinding the neighbours are raising a union jack and I pick up her delicate, furry body avoiding the sting not yet developed touch one folded wing never unfurled the radio moves on to the news

Between presence and absence, the hillside is covered with mixed trees. Green leaves haven't concealed the brown and half-damp earth. ...

I undress to the waist, armpits free of deodorant at the form’s request. Guiding me to the machine, she places my left breast on a...

for Claes Fifteen years ago, you used to joke about that shirt you’d had forever, black washed out to faded grey, big bold checks,...