smoky glass army past
I clung tightly to a Country Road bag full of onions, engaged in a fierce tug-of-war contest with the now crazed former Prime Minister.
The house perches on old stilts on a sloping, dusty shore.
Begin again and again.
sometimes you have to cradle it
I could fit a whole pinecone in my chest.
You lecture them that lesson
“Would you like to know more about our city?”