A review by arithewizard
Boy Interlude (2412 #1), by Aidan Forster


"We lived in buildings made of vines
and the leaves that grew upon them.
We spent our days putting our fingers
in and out of belt loops, calling
it art. A finger through fabric like a tongue
in a boy’s open mouth. There were days
when we did nothing but fold ourselves
into the river."

very pretty ! yes yes im going thru my poetry books on the train