11.1.14

I am in salt air
feet dangling
midday heat singing through the bush.
lover is in my bed,
across the river
sleeping his heavy head through the day.

How you have taken up
residence here.
how my bones speak of you
and blood whispers –
I take 3 steps away
and my nerves stretch.
“go,” they say,
“we need to go”
but all the while
they root in your hands
and tie gentle knots around my wrists.

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Welcome…

This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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