Behind the red door, Is a woman called Sally. She planted the larkspur And she is rolling out pastry For a pie. Her hands Collect the eggs, scatter seed. Her hands are the ones That will wring our necks, But not today. Continue reading Bantam by Daisy Bassen
And if you asked, And if you didn’t ask, And if I never answered, C’mon, baby, What would you do then? Continue reading Consent by Daisy Bassen
Your mother built you up, like a pearl, And she bites you, to see if you are real. There are degrees And there are teeth. Continue reading My darling by Daisy Bassen
