The net that presses against
your skin,
made from thin, steel fibres
leaving an imprint only
when you push up against it.
We have spent most of our
lives, unaware of its existence.
If I worked quietly with a cutter … more »
Tag:
joanne leow
When they tell me that my mother can no longer write
I like to think of it as a loss of fine motor control
I don’t like to remember the cards she once
sent me, her sharp angular writing,
the … more »
So this is me here,
loving in my kitchen
making extra portions, canning
jamming, buying too much,
returning laden, a strap
cutting into my arm
cutting, stirring, tasting
opening a 400°F oven and feeling
it like a slap in the … more »