When you point your finger at The Rabbit with his finger on the trigger, (metaphorically speaking) (though is that any better?) watch out...

I miss your bare bone head: moleskin soft and shaved.

I’m hiding in the looped double eff of the title, sniggering, wondering whether it alludes to something (obviously nothing lofty like...

There’s finite space to fill – space she chose with an artist’s eye for weight and shade, cut up sometimes, ideas half-formed, or framed...

When you say ‘staycation’ it makes me want to shove you into a suitcase with no wheels and heft you into the boot at 6am so we can drive...