Old cloth sin I live in a case of cloth, each day swaddles me closer to my breasts, to my breathing. I leave the house with my unpicked eyes, cross stitching the sky, mostly looking out for sin.
1. The voyage out begins in bathrooms where fleshy girls in bubbled water sink back, serenely considering skin-care and diet routines to make them tauter.
Snaps When Snaps moved in across the street I ignored him for a week. He liked to suddenly stand up at events, announce his dissatisfaction with audience reaction. In the bar at half-time, I watched him approach groups,