Poem #28 (3 of hearts) was released in Markov Place (going over old release territory there, I know, but I was there, and there were drinks. Nuff said.)
Breathe through my mouth for weeks
Cutting off one sense too many
I draw the smell back into a grey
faecal fug. Predictively habit-forming
This chopping back wires into the world
No one lands in hospital
I prefer to disappear, block off
nostrils with the back of my tongue
My jawline alters a split
You wouldn’t notice.
I smile as air whistles
through my teeth.