In school we learnt the story of Samson
and I imagined him,
strange, blind hands pinning him to his chair
as locks of hair drifted down around his shoulders
like feathers,
like snow. Continue reading Queer by Olive Fitzgerald
In school we learnt the story of Samson
and I imagined him,
strange, blind hands pinning him to his chair
as locks of hair drifted down around his shoulders
like feathers,
like snow. Continue reading Queer by Olive Fitzgerald
8-WEST PRESS 