I will be different, ever so slightly. Won't I?
The Flaky Pastry
On Watching Trains Leave
A short piece on sitting on my grandfather's shoulders, watching the trains go by.
In These Spaces, Bodies Talk
In the liminal spaces between the two withins, bodies talk, through touch, speech, taste and sight.
I Ran Into My Younger Self on a Mumbai Local
You may know all this already, but in this moment you are me – a ghost of my past.
Seven Minutes On the New York Subway
A poem about people watching on the New York City subway.
Ghosted: On Trying to Move Beyond Borrowed Experiences, And Have Some of My Own
This poem makes us think about why we date – to find connection or just look for a story to tell?
‘I Remember Holding You, All Five Feet Three of You’
'Now that it is over, you say, we must know how good it was'