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with an XR writing workshop, some fragments and longer passages",[],"2021-06-30",{"link_type":32},{"dimensions":181,"alt":184,"copyright":5,"url":185,"id":186,"edit":187},{"width":182,"height":183},1200,800,"East Voe","https:\u002F\u002Fimages.prismic.io\u002Fkate\u002FmlBiL5tm4mM2LDr7_East-Voe.jpg?auto=format,compress","mlBiL5tm4mM2LDr7",{"x":188,"y":188,"zoom":189,"background":190},0,1,"transparent",[192],{"variation":193,"version":194,"items":195,"primary":196,"id":239,"slice_type":240,"slice_label":5},"default","initial",[],{"content":197},[198,202,206,209,212,215,218,221,224,227,230,233,236],{"type":199,"text":200,"spans":201},"paragraph","I wrote the bones of this piece during a workshop with the poet Dom Bury.\nFinding the heart crack, a place to write from, the place of tension between extinction and joy...",[],{"type":203,"url":185,"alt":184,"copyright":5,"dimensions":204,"id":186,"edit":205},"image",{"width":182,"height":183},{"x":188,"y":188,"zoom":189,"background":190},{"type":199,"text":207,"spans":208},"Photo by Andrew McDouall, East Voe Beach, Shetland, 2017",[],{"type":199,"text":210,"spans":211},"Birds on the bank \nthe wing and the rock, wings done pulsing, nor lifting anymore\nthe screaming terns \nwhite blood flights \nthe wet mother lays flat before me, the lip of her wave my arm, the side of her finger my brow",[],{"type":199,"text":213,"spans":214},"Curlew hiding in the moaning grass, he walks delicately through my scalp, down my face;\neye lashes wet, heavy, I'm gathering tears on the leaves of all the branches of your thoughts\nand still it's a blessing\n(Or I think it is)",[],{"type":199,"text":216,"spans":217},"You far away in time \nand tomorrow too \nthink of me in the space you make between your fingers as you spread them on the animal skin laid on the dirt floor beneath the sky",[],{"type":199,"text":219,"spans":220},"Black as night and tucked with the stitches of stars the coverlet hangs a crescent body\na curling fleshy belly \npale and round \nthe colour of honey\nyou lie my twin in the bubble I blow between my brows\nit hangs there, and rides the current",[],{"type":199,"text":222,"spans":223},"and collapsing my lips fall with the others",[],{"type":199,"text":225,"spans":226},"The man is brought before me, twisted and dry. \nAncient you come hard against my palm, I fold my fingers around you, an earth, a sett, a burrow for this stone to rest for the next 2000 years.",[],{"type":199,"text":228,"spans":229},"Yellow butterflies squeeze out their perfume pale as dawn\nCreamy white peals the bell at your crown \nand I swim in the seas of your body, anemone pink. \nYour dusky cloak, the edges of your hair stroke me man-god: Or ant. Mouse.",[],{"type":199,"text":231,"spans":232},"We embrace; for a moment I feel your hair against my face. I like it.",[],{"type":199,"text":234,"spans":235},"The bridges your breath makes sharing this love with all you ones who nest:\nI sit beside the chapel, treasure wrapped in wool on the lonely isle. I'd already left him.",[],{"type":199,"text":237,"spans":238},"Asking for spells and trances and the vibration of cells, he brings me alive; he fears me.\nThe cut of the tongue of the spider, the carmine stab of the tern\nthe holes which might tear wider, though which we could drop, my son would fall \n(I'd already have fallen)",[],"rich_text$4adfae32-9d3d-4b95-9f95-824e63f0b355","rich_text",{}]