rtsgnl
a small collection
i nearly say your name, but the room tilts towards it.
wander →
about
marks my picks
01.04
voice note, unsent
there is a bus at the lights, breathing like an animal in winter.
02.17
migratory pattern
you sleep with one foot outside the blanket.
09.06
agenda item six
the river has exceeded its remit.
17.32
lost property
behind the counter: three umbrellas, a wedding ring, a child's left shoe…
fallow
for years the word was lazy — first in their mouths, then in mine.
hourwork
the bell still rings on the hour — no one rings it now.
threshold
the field is there, green past the glass.
again
our joy written as sickness — we outlived the wording, together.