by Matilda Houston-Brown

two sisters pushing their hands two together, two sets
of fingers, thumbs – candy popping round their mouth,
pastel shards of it – each vowel sound posed an opposite
to hiss like capsizing dinghies – approachable gossip
to figure out a kiss or fight, popped spots, acne scars,
posed in the dark as if they’re missing being teased or
being loved, listening to the apoplectic static singing
from a radio or microwave – a whole world seizing in
on itself on the basis of typed-in time, shrivelled spaces,
the necessary multiplicity in falling apart –