had leopard-skin wallpaper
and a bath with feet of feline.
On the edge of the bathtub sat
a plate with the fossil of breakfast,
egg-yolk congealed and hard
as life in a bedsit,
Notting Hill,
1975.
Twenty-five-year-old Emma Leavey is alive to the
possibility that her recent neck pains are due to the wheel of
her throat (or self-expression) chakra spinning too slowly. Thus,
she has been forced to acknowledge her dream of becoming a writer
of fiction and poetry. She lives in England and Israel (although not usually at the same time).
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