I am.

I am but space a cluster of mess; my skin full of chemicals that has let hurricanes in and planets and scars like plastered wax stuck to my chest. I am the white sclera the peeling film of tired eyes; I am sinew of bones that make up home with feelings reaching from the praline …

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Autumn by Izzie Simmons

Autumn: We leaned into the last few shards of August’s crisp edges Poetry was flowing from the finger tips of lovers The sheet music was richer to flatter the coming season My chest was swelling with gratitude for moments I’d been given I sat amongst the gardens of no agenda - no needs Pulling the …

Continue reading Autumn by Izzie Simmons


Image result for nightclub blurry lights
A collaborative piece written by me and the beautifully talented Esme Brown who you can find over at: puttingthedogtosleep.wordpress.com

Glitter Ghosts

These are crystallised visions

Dancing too close.

Instruments of the deep blue;

Fish hook kisses,

Raging rip-tide tongues.

These lights are an alien sky

Faces fish-eyed,

Scoop music or

Struggling spirits –

Slipping, yolky through florescent fingers –

Into steel-basin chests.

Phosphorous, unbound waves take us

Swaying in its swell of salt.

If we vomit tonight,

It’ll be jellyfish

Blubbery and full of washed up wishes.

Hips swing in rings of infinity

The Steady, instinctual pattern of bees

“Honey” They mouth;

Choked women’s voices

All those messages bottle-necked,

Annexed in Adams apples.

Tribal painted we chant

A song unknown to us

Possessed by the drums and

Something sacrificial,

Something ungendered and primal-

Angels with

Sequined wings exposed

To hungry hands.

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