on temptation

it’s not the willow pattern platebehind cold museum glassit’s not your brother’s birthday cakewhite frosted on the pantry shelfit’s the diaphragmpulling in smoke from the ruined hallit’s the handclasped round metal five hundred volts...

mainstay

cast off your past like so much dry skincome down with me to the waterloose those knots which bind you to your old painthe empty cupthe mast at your backlet me be the harbour for your second chancesfind them herein the seaweedon the rocks Katy Naylor is an office...