by Meredith Pitt


So perfect, high rolling hills

covered in heather and gorse;

that faint coconut smell mixed

with peaty earth.


Sky so far it becomes the

future itself.


Yes, it is possible, I opened

a window and let a little

out; just enough to be

dry and warm.


There are always more

with you, yes the iodine

smell will go soon; it

follows me.


Irresistible nautilus paths

paved with gold.


Sleep on your left ear,

you may even gather

them back, they’re a

little tight, here.