Lia Hills

sit in parks with leaves as feet the eloquence of the day waning as seeds become antiques (the stairs lead to carparks and loose bricks) razor wire curls to your emergency ears you seek assistance green for timetables red for …

a furtive smile behind screen beheading's no way to heart images of catalyst eyes and infant crimes foreign to endorphin lands bums cupped on plastic seats only the absent seek jihadi clips the rest post boasted worth and doctored skin …

as shells purr through darkness tomcat black my palms read the stone between blasts your letter folded twice over in my hip pocket worthy of pilgrimage through fated streets the summer dark turned to glory I crawl into the square …