Little girl

I often wonder what she was really like: the little girl I used to be. I’ve heard so many stories and I’ve imagined so many moments I no longer know which memories are true and which are figments - fragments of pillow thoughts or wandering daydreams.     Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees … Continue reading Little girl

To the girl

To the girl who grew her hair past her shoulders.   There is something about you   something I always knew, yet never guessed, dreamt of perhaps but could never imagine how you would dress:   heart on your sleeve, golden round, boots and morning blood,   you sparkle like dew, a cobweb in sunlight, … Continue reading To the girl


My mother’s arms arc gently, paintbrush in hand. She is decorating my bedroom walls with flowers; pink petals, purple shadows and sunshine yellow centres. I watch, sat cross legged in the middle.   Cross legged on a beige carpet, surrounded by the magnolia walls my mother is gracing with her colours, her charm, her beauty … Continue reading Ambrosia

Review of The Myths of Girlhood, Christine E. Ray

Everyone has the capacity to write. Some people write uplifting messages in greeting cards. Some people write hilarious commencement speeches. Some people write like their entire existence depends on it and in doing so etch their soul into the stars. After reading Composition of a Woman, Ray convinced me she was the latter. The Myths … Continue reading Review of The Myths of Girlhood, Christine E. Ray


The book had been upon your lips for weeks. It was shrouded in your love, your admiration, still unclear to me. In lonely bookshop wanders I thought of you. Of the book, its title and the way your mouth navigated the sounds, soft and hard. It lingered in the corners of our conversations, presented itself … Continue reading Vigil


Her face wobbles, held up to a mirror of rippling water. The gilded edges glint against glistening pools of fear above her cheeks.   Her face was lit, with a bouquet of roses and coral. Adorned with emerald pearls piercing the fog between them.   Her hands shiver, shaking and stirring mystery which smothers. Skin … Continue reading Kerry


He sat and told her to be lousy Be awful, incongruent Be the girl she saw everyday The one she shuns in the mirror. The ordinary one, who clocks in and out Of work, conversations and friendships Who runs more than she fights Rolls her eyes before she listens. He sat and told her to … Continue reading Lousy