Moïra Fowley

The belly-groan of a face unpeeled. A break-up poem recited knee-deep in bog water. An ancient burial mound rising and falling like a chest. The ghost of Stephen Gately reading the ingredients on a ham and cheese sandwich. 

Startling, sinister and irresistibly joyful, Moïra Fowley's debut collection unravels all of our darkest impulses and deepest fears.

Eyes Guts Throat Bones

cheyanne

It is summer and Elly's cardigan is falling off one freckled shoulder, hand in Trina's hand, running through the gaps in the bushes that tug at their clothes, small white scratches on summer-pinked skin, and this is how it starts.

Phones don't have shutter snaps like this. When I rise from my knees on the floor they crack like this. The shush of the paper working through the camera is the bedsheets shifting underneath you.

Eyes Guts Throat Bones quotes

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