competition entries, blogs and contributions to collections.
Death is a privilege few get. The unlikelihood, the sheer luck of your death is tied first and foremost to the extremely unlikely event of your birth.
The heart is a space outside of time. A refuge. Scrapbook. Wildlands.
The first time I died, re-entry was quick. Born three weeks premature. One of my lungs didn’t inflate.
I suppose my mother is to blame for my love of words.