Poetry: my brain’s core and a namesake

Scripted Daydreams   Eyelids left dusted by darkness, weighed down by the echoes of dreams in my head- she’d been writing a poem while I was asleep: I ask her to read it back to me, but I open my eyes and she’s gone.   Aching muscles want to stay cosy, the peace of my… Continue reading Poetry: my brain’s core and a namesake