#NaPoWriMo day 18

It’s been a while since I talked to myself, well to you, how rude. I have been stretching the meaning of a day recently writing ever closer to midnight. I ought to break this emerging habit very quickly, I have come to far. I hope you’re well. If you’re reading this, text a friend one of your favourite things about them as a person. No reason  or link to the poem, but because love innit. Enjoy…


Eyes wedgie your chin,
expose your fruit to cold air.
You look at the sky
vulnerable, in awe.
Counting stars like selfish children
sharing skittles.
Forgetting fear.
That forge that furnishes many hands
to cut apples.
Expect steam.
Take me to the ocean. Drop me.
Smudge away all burning
in deep waters.

Clean, I am.


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