Alexandra Pereira is a writer and journalist.
Currently based in Berlin by way of
Worcestershire, Manchester and London.
My escutcheon, no longer my escutcheon.
Dancing, huffing, batting, puffing
I then lay in dark rooms saying ‘I need to be in the dark’ and
Ended affairs with you, on a log in the park.
The easiness surprised me, and with highs and skipping I
Surged, bounded into my new bounty.
My furniture was better without you
Your clothes were free of me.
Series one of seductions pinched me, my head, torso and toes whilst I
Logged on, I watched, I waited for server error because I knew I’d be
Gnawed on, not even chewed on, and spat right out. Not
Two shields, or one, but none.
Tight jeans and condoms stayed in pine drawers with bottled glitter
My furniture, soaked with smoke, grew hackneyed with the weight of my tears and
My tired friends who, kind, patiently listened as I lay
In sunlit rooms saying ‘I need to be in the dark from this.’
And flickering, just twelve weeks ago, but there in my reel sits
The bloodhound, waiting for his walk.