Motoc Lavinia

Today I failed Jamila and boiled the turkey jelly to death. My testimony laid on the patio brick wall, a display for the neighbours’ cats oozing of its garlic to liquid imbalanced ratio.

I apologise to the whales, fishes, the Natterjack toad and all the endangered species. I haven't been good. Haven't looked at the food packaging and chucked everything in the bin wishing to

all three of us around the table including the dead one, four stop biting me or you won’t get to heaven she shoots out to the garden in shame desperate to get a response from the fairies

how they fucked in a corner the whole afternoon his coat over mine in a room where youth pushed its feathered chest out like peacocks at Leeds Castle skins emanated diferent smells

With teddies I buy more time In this world with the purple dog And the horse, crossed legs in red socks, watching TV in the lounge In this world you want to be eighteen Sleep with my bra

All the dead wide awake Counting down Trees aflame eyes alight I feel patriotic, fool, inlove Kiss to the left, kiss to the right Drink up champagne

The sheep are still The ocean is grumbling He says I am attractive I don’t even know what that means The apple crunches between her teeth while a tune absorbs us all into its vacuum

abandoned now a very yellow prince a boy is coming to our house the idea of it all makes her hair curl up then it vanishes from the face of the mirror like deer hoofs in the dark woods

giant strawberry looking down on a couple of spare angels spiralled stone in the middle the focus of our thoughts a ladybird has lost her way to paradise, a sign reads lambpost, absorbed,

in the mirror we all have the same eyes and hair brown and short, squirrel eyes people call them although Erica’s still over her shoulders, curled upwards look, mummy, the mirror is trying to

her hands parting your hair like airplanes flying low from Gatwick your thoughts on an attempt to settle first speckles of dust from the dirt road on the furniture it must be the tone of her

they met a week ago seemed impressed by nothing so far he’d seen it all before plus there is always a neighbour didn’t you know in Canada, Great Britain, America supermarkets we have

in front of the mirror she grew stilettos and fancy hat afraid she might get absorbed in changed her mind in a feather got the pink violin out and played time and time again on her heart

hot, hot, hot in the car, in my brain errect windmills poppies in the fields like lips left ajar sharp call for icecream two horses cuddled in a trailer kiss, kiss your hand on

after he’d made a knot to his son’s Dior tie & sent him off I am sure he turned something on like a radio, played some blues then rested his hands on a pillow although I would’ve

Geometric Christmas Reflective drop onion baubles instead of wine lives no more home made cakes prepared for weeks and weeks shred glass for haggis , sausages and pickles flock