We Go Wandering at Night and are Consumed by Fire

"Night's mushroom scent: / old music, old lures, / labyrinths of the miniature."

This is a tale of moths and mirrors, glim and dim, told in the smoky, sensuous lines of Rowyda Amin, a writer who "specialises in controlled fantasies" (Alan Brownjohn, Poetry Review), and the delicate, luxuriant illustrations of Heather McArthur. We Go Wandering ... ripples and shifts, sometimes sharply, sometimes imperceptibly, trailing many shadows as it leads you by the nose through a conjured world - a city of crossroads where the borders between things melt away.