photo: SexArt

A Fireplace Fantasy

A saxophone wails Careless Whisper through the river of trees; cutting a trail through the blackberry brambles.

I’m never gonna dance again.

Saint George Michael.

Close my eyes. Map my hips, wrist, and heart.

Cock. Cunt.

Major breaks. Minor keys.

We could have been so good together. …

Becci Goodall

I live and write with the trees and honeybees.

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