Capital Letters - 2013

The Cave Jon Wood Her cave was a lopsided left over room off the long Harrow road forty minutes’ race from Hackney going west through the arrhythmic flow of the city he arrives his flowers swapped for a skip full of kisses they were soon flush with a remembered skill seen only by the pale blue that seeped from the sky through her prison-like window he could hear her sound unconditional love and a face made more for Rubens’ than modern times he lost himself rolled in her exquisite folds they were sailors resisting the draw of the shore mining at a kind of truth until he had to leave.

Gliding to his side of the metropolis shadowed by muted masonry facades hardly aware of gradient wind or surface 5