No Fixed Abode 

No Fixed Abode

Her voice can reach all the way
into me and turn the screws 
until they tighten so hard, 
                                          I bleed.

He stands at the top of the stairs
leaning into the drop – reading the sky,
the silhouette of pigeon blending into
bare trees.

He is holding onto air



Sarer Scotthorne
Illustration Nick Victor



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