Admission – a poem by Sarah Marchant
Admission A breath of crisp air and amid banana-shake aftertaste, the giggling of girls, the frenzy of road games, a thought blooms like a single drop of rain — I’ve kissed those collarbones.
Poetry
Pulse – a poem by Sarah Marchant
a warm-colored thrum spreads, a web of fingertip touches and threads of lightning silver my eyelids – I have tasted the sun-beads, have been enveloped by the sweet-spell, and it reverberates.
Channel Orange: Album review.
Much of the hype around Frank Ocean has been about his sexuality and not necessarily his music. He published a moving letter on his Tumblr page, revealing a time when he was in love with […]
The Old Bird
Raised glasses toast at the stretched saloon, away from the humanised beats and moving feet, I wonder the crowd mesmerised by the colourful bulbs, To the open road where there’s smoke, I retreat. […]