By Didier Muller. Illustration by Salvatore Pirito.
You could trick me, and I’d be grateful
Tell me everything I want to know
And I’ll open myself
You could do anything,
Steal from me
And I will kiss your fingers
Whilst they burrow through my pockets.
They might smell of someone else
I don’t care
I’ll press them hard against my wet body
They will soon smell like me
And I will start to smell like you
You could trick me, and I’d be a fool
I’d be the happiest fool.
Reflecting on recent far-right protests against immigration, Ibrahim writes about his family’s journey to Britain and the odds they have had to overcome.
In this poem, Zara explores alienation, from self and others, in a city like London.
In this intimate piece, Erica reflects on her connection to the ocean and what it means to find your way back home.
Two men connect on the doorstep of a dingy cafe. Over a shared cigarette, they learn about the loves and losses which shaped their respective lives.
Suchita interviews Dr Julia Costet on the meaning of rape and how to challenge the fear of speaking about sexual violence
