Cather­ine Said, Don’t Go Clean Alone


Room Magazine - - EDITOR’S LETTER -

I hang rose flan­nel from glass door cur­tain hooks and pull into tent se­cured with nov­els. Woolf, Yeats, Bre­ton, Rhys, I with­draw into their worlds (darkly flo­ral, star­lit) and awaken with fire in the bed. Ra­dio plays low clas­si­cal. Noth­ing here, pill­boxes emp­tied nights ago: con­fetti above obliv­i­ous city with black and white birds. In the hol­low of my belly, a cat. Teeth and mus­cles chat­ter, jump. She said, seizures or death. I re­mem­ber the storm that turned ev­ery­thing gold.

Lau­rence found a bot­tle in the sea: a scroll with num­ber and ad­dress; no mes­sage, just the de­sire to be found, called by a stranger, a mem­ory.

what i am is LOVE (gen­der is ir­rel­e­vant) by ben­jamin lee hicks 2016; wa­ter­colour, ink, and pen­cil crayon

15.25 x 17.75 cm

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