Chasing Shadows

My dad died when I was six. Well, six and a half; I was big on halves then. Anyway, he died. And whether as a result of too much TV or an already over-active imagination, I used to "see" him sometimes. Always at night. Always in dim-lit rooms. He would just stand there, half-smiling; male … Continue reading Chasing Shadows

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Fruit Squash

30-06-09 Hollow, vulnerable. Like the scooped-out empty skin Of an eagerly ripe pawpaw. You turned me to mush, Like the pink goey-ness Of a luscious watermelon. My insides are raw, Soured by lime and scrubbed With gritty guava seeds My very soul itches, From the unripe pineapple That is our pear-shaped end. My unshed tears … Continue reading Fruit Squash