On Thursday 23 September, we’ll be announcing the winner of this year’s White Review Short Story Prize, sponsored by RCW, live through YouTube from 7pm. We’d love it if...
It is summer and we are still married Law dictates
that we can pitch a tent wherever we want Easier
said than done Light is early morning, all bone The
straps of a heavy bag leave erotic marks on your
shoulders Sand dunes grow up sideways, like the
protogay child We laugh and discuss the non-
arrival of our protégée child instead Laughing feels
good so we laugh louder Babies are pointless who
needs them Around us the midges form a
constellation I admire their loveless manoeuvres
LOOK THESE STARS HAVE WINGS you shout
through the turbulence A couple fly into your
mouth and crawl up your tongue You swallow with
difficulty Sex for pleasure is very human but then
again so are choke points Harnessed chaos is your
thing and we don’t talk about it A midge bites
behind my ear and injects saliva into my skin What
each female needs is an abdomen full of blood I
know Eggs are laid no matter what Her mouth
parts work as two saws, perforating my skin I say
THIS REMINDS ME OF YOU and clap the midge
dead Wind hurls her tiny corpse elsewhere You
touch your throat and point out the sound of the
ocean Wave after wave Things are a little awkward
now I want to dig a trench in the sand and lie
inside, together A bodily grammar should, like the
body, be full of holes
