Category: art

At last

we are drunk for the first time
in the foothills
of cadair idris
fresh out of school where for five years they called us lemons
and dykes.

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the spider

the woman remembered
the swivel of shod hooves on the dusty road
voices of strangers passing
blinding sunlight in the post office window
men’s hands, reaching
music at the market.

and running.

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“Dear Data”

Exploring and sharing the secret parts of ourselves (an ongoing project between my friend and I rooted in Emergent Strategy and Octavia Butler's Parables novels).

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