Weds 14th Oct ’20, 20:08.

The tongue is more akin to a lasso than a harpoon, The way it winds itself round words. Some tie knots in strings and cherry stems, but this wet mouth-dwelling muscle of mine Weaves spells with slight and sinew. In my nose, right now, is the smell of the dark over my primary school on… Continue reading Weds 14th Oct ’20, 20:08.

Food Mag Fantasy

Sifting through the most recent issues of my favourite supermarket magazine. Drinking in glorious colours in the finest seasonal palette, page after page of wonderful, warming recipes and beautifully deep and textured imagery. A cornucopia of apples, beetroot, figs, pears and baked caramel-laden desserts celebrated in divine, earthen and regal visuality, a magnificent way to spend… Continue reading Food Mag Fantasy