‘SPACE’  by Louisa Doyle.

This space
between my face
and your face
is clear
like someone moved the table and the chairs
it’s also quite a long way
to your face
you’ll have to reach
I’ve decided
the air is hot
because we’ve been filling it
I’d rather smoke breath like bulls in bed
than keep my distance
because right now
there’s something between us

and we’re watching it like a coin
spinning on its ridge
you know
we could kiss
and we’re watching it like a coin
spinning on its ridge
flashing like this and this and this


‘Turn me on’. ‘Clearly you’ve never been to Singapore’. Story by Eliza Lawrence.

Here we go.

I don’t like it soft. Never have.

The first man I slept with was scared to touch me in fear of fragility, as if I could crack and he’d have to return me in the post as damaged good. I wasn’t fragile, I was strong and I hated the feeling of being touched softly with quaking hands in fear of a mistaken purchase.

The second person I shared intimate relations with was much older than me and he showed me everything, all I needed to do was reveal what I had under my small dress and muddied boots. He told me what to say, how to touch and possessed my body for hours while I was tossed onto surfaces and as blunt as it sounds to say, broken in.

I have talked this over and over in my head in fear that being broken by a man makes me less of a woman. And as I have played ball with this idea the ball has only become less of an issue as I feel strong now and when I was played with as if I was this china doll I was weakened.

To be ‘dominated’ is a scary term exposing whips, chains and gags. This tunnel is dark to me and unexplored, not to say I wouldn’t. I could turn the light on at any time.

 When I, however, say ‘I like to be dominated’ I am more revealing a strength of two bodies that are working with each other in a dance that is led by the man or women that is sharing the pillows with me.

The dance starts with a push and I love this feeling of falling.

It isn’t about being conquered or being overpowered, it is about having the ability to trust someone so completely that they take control of your hair, your mouth, the spaces in between your thighs and the ecstasy powering through your veins.

But thinking more about this dance I think I do have the power of dominance too but mine Is about caressing the globe in your back, giving you the shudder of my eyes and moans that compels you to go harder and the voice that loves you tender. All of these things allow me to remain a Cleopatra in the ring.

It is not about women or man as I feel it with both.  We don’t have control in our dreams and sex for me is just another dream that I skip through in my brain and shake too in my body.

It’s when you lose all mind and become soul. 

All I’m asking is to love me beastly madly. And then you’ll turn me on.

And if you don’t understand that, you’ve clearly never been to Singapore.


Morning after. William Eccles. A dedication to the man, Leonard that left this week to go somewhere else.


Is it cheating to borrow the creativity of the great dead poet Leonard Cohen?

This is from his farewell album.

Surely death is a form of morning after?

Leaving The Table. Words and Music by Leonard Cohen

I’m leaving the table I’m out of the game I don’t know the people In your picture frame If I ever loved you It’s a crying shame If I ever loved you If I knew your name You don’t need a lawyer I’m not making a claim. You can put down your weapon I’m not taking aim I don’t need a lover. The wretched beast is tame I don’t need a lover So blow out the flame There’s nobody missing. There is no reward Little by little We’re cutting the cord We’re spending the treasure That love cannot afford I know you can feel it. The sweetness restored I don’t need a reason for what I became I’ve got these excuses. They’re old and they’re lame I don’t need a pardon. There’s no one left to blame.

I’m leaving the table I’m out of the game