Editors' note
The world stopped for a second when your secret leaked out. Your heart was pounding; your
neck, gooseflesh.
You told me your secret, wrote it down. It hummed with undiscovered places. You
chased me into the green, naked and brimming with excitement, slipping on foliage and
watching the spring bubble. You made me feel vulnerable, yet all the while brave, intelligent –
magnetic. You burst, bright and blue, colours screaming from your heart into mine, and I felt it.
I really did.
I know your secrets now. The ones that gnaw and gnaw until they become words that
become stories that you think aren’t secrets anymore. You kept lookout for her, let her tear
through his papers. He never even knew your treachery; but I do. You broke into private
property, shrunk into shadows within the bamboo cages; I watched you. You stole messages
from the sea, pressed your chapped lips against her forehead, left me at the doorstep wondering
if you’d ever return. You fell in love with strangers. You learned how to French kiss. You filled
the river with secrets and people and told me that it’s cold where you are.
You kept it beating: hush-hush.
Illustration
Annabelle and Carlotta x
Zoe Neilson is based in South London and
works mainly with watercolour, graphite and
biro. Find her at www.zoeneilson.com or
www.instagram.com/zoeillustration.