Sylvie Hill

Attention I miss men Male lovers who Can fetch hangers lodged Behind radiators And kill spiders In the bathtub And fix the battery In the fire alarm And change a lightbulb. These men Who were so good with technology Fix me up with a stereo And things Wire my speakers Hang my curtains Make a […]

Family | Connections I sever connections where there is no meet* but grating bones, bare and scraping zero substance, fear and weak beliefs and an inability to stand up to/for me. When I crashed my car he wrote to me: “So it was your fault then?” Precisely. Blaming another is not what I needed. I […]

Attention Like A Siren’s Song No one really asks me much if I miss her. People don’t ask those types of questions anymore. We keep it light: friends are busy for sure with work, their anxieties, families, burdens. But those questions: they’re necessary I ask them of others: a step into “you get me.” And […]

West Coast, Alibi and the Princess Idiot By Christ, mate! You make me want to love you with my crock pot! Massage your hands and pulse your cock. Get you iced water, or top you up And listen to how the fuck your day was! By Christ, mate! Your garbled Souf London accent in your […]

March 19 (Bond fire) Of solid mind And even temperament Of joyful gratitude Dare I say, happiness I thought tonight As I prepared for bed That the two impediments To true love you might find are insecurity and consumption. Feeling not fit for love Or being – drunk Wanting to consume And assume you Not […]

Like A Son Oh my God, when I woke up I had been dreaming of you, my last love. I nearly forgot what I was made of — but I could feel it; there it was. My lover, but I loved you like my son. Or like my Self when I was young Insecure, scarred, […]

In The Shower Five Years Later In the shower five years later Having watched vids about London pickpocketers I remembered I lost my keys on the side street But I had checked on them earlier when I went to the lavatory. I had been using my phone to hear a message from Kelly Then lost […]

The Relief Thief In the dark of a London night With only the Gower Street light Alit on your beard, glint in your eyes I bent you soft to put you inside. In the late of the early dawning We finished up, without finishing You said we made love “briefly.” Did you just whisper something? […]

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