The builder.

Friday, 4pm rolls around. The drilling and radio stop. Today, new problems have been found, and the client is ready to flop. Finishing his fourth cup of coffee of the day, the builder talks of the weekend (to her dismay).   “I’m not allowed ou’ on my own,” the builder says to the client. “the…

Our heroes and our heroines.

When you tell your son and your daughter a bedtime story, I hope the narrative will have changed.They don’t need to hear of distressed damsels or Prince Charming hair – they need the stories in which the girl saves herself and sometimes she saves Prince Charming, too.For we all need guidance at one point or…

Late at night

Do you text them late at night like you do to me? Do you whisper sweet nothings of what you both could be? Do you show off your cocktail flair then caress their legs and their hair? Do you drink as much with them, ‘though you’ve only gone over at ten? Do you plant kisses…

The Things We Do…

Oh, the things we do to feel desired.  We spend forever styling our hair for a boy we’ve never met. We beautify our cuticles – do you reckon he’s noticed, yet? Our legs are freshly shaved In this skirt we’ve recently braved. We wait in a bar, alone Hopelessly checking our phones. We ponder his…

The passion she found in that room.

She thought it would be tricky to get along with him that night; this arrogant, sexist man. He reminded her of when she was younger – more naive, more accepting of men’s chauvinistic remarks. Maybe this kindled a yearning for her youth? His girlfriend was at home, she wasn’t known to her.   His presence…

Unravelling

The inevitable has come to fruition, And everything else is tumbling inward at an alarming rate. I’m unravelling. Will screaming help? Not really. Will crying? Temporarily. How will I fill the void you’ll create with your absence?      

I’m not one of those girls…

I’m not one of those girls who enjoys the gym, I’m not one of those girls who’ll have a tonic with gin, I’m not one of those girls who plays ‘hard to get’ I’m looking for someone special – why haven’t I found them yet?   I’m not one of those girls who’ll keep her…

Like a cat.

Like a cat, I spread out in the hot sun. My fur: freshly washed and Moroccan oiled;  my tail gently curling. No pressures on this day, only the promise of warm sunlight until sunset.   Drifting in and out of dream, my breath steadies. My limbs stretch and my whiskers twitch.  

These hands

These hands these hands – adorned with silver, gold and opal – twitch with a need for touch they tingle for intimacy my fingertips hold yours; will you be around for long enough for me to learn their print?   the lick of varnish applied before rousing Friday nights wears off by Monday morning; telling of…