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The Sailor
an old man upstairs has fits of coughing
women make his bed creak fit to bust
he's some sort of evangelical preacher
an expert on the perils of human lust
bones in bright sunshine or pouring rain
pressed down by limbs that rarely speak
contorted versions of my wide-open legs
I could make his bed wake up and creak
do my vows still apply after these years?
did I ...
Tuesday 22nd June 2021 10:08 am
Black Cupboard
it makes me sweat even now
such sheer terror left its mark
there's nothing worse than a
child imprisoned in the dark
she'd blame me for being bad
I'd struggle but to little avail,
hoisted in the black cupboard
dusty, warm, beyond the pale
bent in two and scared of mice
heard her laughter downstairs
something tickling my shoulder
the silk touch of spider's...
Tuesday 16th March 2021 10:25 am
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