The kettle bubbles and clicks – I can hear the

What if I just want to write at night?

This morning I spiraled down into my body from

Dreamt again of rearranging furniture with such purpose – and

Dreaming of impossible menial decision making – cats, curries, clothes

Who are you? – sometimes you whisper with the moon

I wasn’t going to write this morning, for no

We rose to the occasion that we carved for

Take the first small step, the one that is

Mesmeric – my image – transfixed and unaware; beauty always the