hands over curves like the behemoths we try to conquer in our minds. restrained urges are not socially acceptable, we release them like animals when we hope no one is looking. we wait for true love and claim now as the moment. *  I remember putting on lipstick, thinking so he’ll wanna kiss them. I didn’t think he’d actually do it. * every evening, they’re in the grass, those brown things, not quite a hedgehog or a badger, right about dinner time, and no one tells them to go away. now and then, we pull out cameras, snap scenic country photos, appropriate for bbc, planet earth, one of those shows that tells you what things are like when they’re living like they should. there’s something beautiful about the air, about breathing, about strange animals rolling in the grass. it’s like, the world has reached normalcy again. it’s like, chaos is not as demanding as it may appear. I can open this window, never close it, and sit in the simplest of things. Meg Eden If you've any comments about her poems, Meg Eden would like to hear them.