We packed tshirts, thongs and bathers, toothbrushes, croissants and snacks – crisps, oranges. Sunscreen. Condoms, lube and toys. I packed perfume and lipstick, high heels, my diary, Catherine Malabou’s The Ontology of the Accident. Tissues. And he packed chewing gum,Read more…
Baby
Give me something honest, like a cardboard heart wrapped in string Make me laugh about ‘it’, meaning everything; I want to play it fake If what you’re imagining is sex, place me in the whip hot tundra where we canRead more…