Wednesday, January 12

in somebody else's house

there is black behind the curtains. voices rumble elsewhere like water in the pipes. 'do you want my bathwater?' birds high voices. a door slams. later, crows wake me.


ann said...

Hi Fiona your small stones have such a sense of movement in them, I read them and feel pulled along into another reality. Annx

Fiona Robyn said...

thankyou x