An Exchange of Words

An Exchange of Words

The Writer I would write you a letter, with ink and pen on thick paper that feels good in your hands. I’d like to leave the weight of my words with you, a deep impression on the page. I’d like to know you received it, took it into your hands, ran your...
I Was A Dancer, Once.

I Was A Dancer, Once.

I’ll say it sometimes, dropped into the lull of a conversation about somebody’s graceful movement. Or somebody might ask, ‘You know, what do you call it, that step?’ and I will answer without thinking, ‘that is the pas de basque’ or...
What Happens Sometimes In A Bar.

What Happens Sometimes In A Bar.

If you want to build resilience into your character, visit a bar. Put on your favourite clothes, wear your best scent. Promise yourself to be exactly who you are in every moment, because there are things that sometimes happen in a bar that can make you strong. They...
She Undresses.

She Undresses.

It begins with the shoes. The red shoes. They hardly come out of the closet these days, but when they do – her walk is lifted, the tilt of her hips just ever so much more swung from left to right. Everything else is for her or for them, but the shoes – the...
Poem: Counting Stars

Poem: Counting Stars

When does discovery end? How do you know when you have learned enough or all things? I think ‘discovering’ is a present art; could we not practice it endlessly, traversing ever deeper and higher and wider? When can you say you are known or know another...