‘Just now I have begun to think that if it were possible I would prefer Tai to enter me and feel her pushing against my organs. I would sooner have her within me rather than invade her’
‘Magaly Park’, p.71.
The Cartography of Others
by Catherine McNamara
I drag the knife across the skin
of a mango, travel the circumference
of its red-green shell, a bead
of juice seeping out at the seam.
Dig my fingers into the flesh,
break the fruit apart into uneven
halves. I hand one to you, lift the other
to my mouth...
'The bones - a scapula, shinbone, breastbone, collarbone, the little hazelnut-sized ones in the hand, the broken ball joints from the leg and humerus - they begin to spin, gently at first like a mobile, but soon at a speed that the gentle wind outside can't be creating...