We share the sins that bind us. The tip of my tongue is the sun melting in your eyes. You see it clearly, you let it burn your throat while coughing lava on the plain white walls.
I want to be an openness bending at the tip of the sunlight falling on my back. But I’m also afraid of burning in my own fire. I carry my hostilities like a poet who adores perspiring on a hot sunny afternoon in the arms of an old monument that houses some grand secrets onlyContinue reading “Of Silly Ruminations”
It’s a touch I recognise and swallow – a strawberry taste/ a bathing tide/ a summer scream.
There is no poetic sunshine where i come from,
there is no dreamy night filled with stars and the scent of lovely roses.
People often talk about the ground slipping from under their feet, but have you ever felt it slipping right back?
I look down at my empty palms holding on to nothing but a blackness that has no shade, a hope that has no name.
A poster and a thought.
There’s a fantasy, at the surface of my spine It flutters into your arms like a Gothic Romance choking on its own saliva I spill the rainbows that you planted in my bladder ~ an acid leaves my body crawling on all fours, There’s a lullaby growing in my belly & with every kiss, youContinue reading “Fantasies & Fiction”
All the night Creatures crawled up to my desk ~ & I wondered… What Creature am I in their language? The one with the touch of Death or the God with untimely sunlight ~ as bright as a snowfall in the raging summers? They keep coming back, I don’t think they’ve a name for me.Continue reading “Night Creatures”
An excerpt from a poem, a question to myself and fellow writers; Will you write yourself?