I. the tick and the tock my eyes lift- how fast it goes and how slow too; time II. time, the keeper of life mine and yours tick tocks away slipping away quickly- slowly Continue reading
snow feathers outside a fervour- coincidence at knock atom cracks spilt and uncontainable clouds melt – blue and sun fill sky. Continue reading
untitled.
what’s on your mind then? that of the feet turned inwards- a winged wingless bird skies and mirror like silence as chains and locks turn and turn. Continue reading untitled.
untitled – undated
i saw a man die today. a thought behind my eyes as his body twists in the air, that a body shouldn’t be pretzeled into this shape he’s contorted into. it was the head splitting on the side of the road like a watermelon that had been tied too loose to the back of a … Continue reading untitled – undated
i wish i knew how to feel warmth upon my shoulders- when my mind swears i’m dying a slow death. Continue reading
untitled (10)11/03/17
Do you like yourself? Excuse me? Do you like yourself? ; the question echoed accusatorily. She could feel herself recoil at the question even as she dared herself to calm- to breathe – to breathe. The breath she drew stuck pins in her chest through her back and she knew she was falling … Continue reading untitled (10)11/03/17
last hours in bangkok.
i’ve collected a collage of tan-lines. i’ve collected the sun. i’ve made moments with old, made new friends and missed some. i’ve eaten so much tom yum. i bought books today- instead of doing touristy things. i’ve had interesting conversations about life; future; and everything in between. i’ve arted and felt both content and empty … Continue reading last hours in bangkok.
the city *
listening to the hum the steady, streaming, breathing of the city. people with eyes that watch both the surface and the unspoken parts like learning the rules to a game for the first time. hands, laughs, eyes- that firmly take and keep a certain sense of focus. the city and its coming and going people … Continue reading the city *
luminary
that perhaps, you’re the light in a barren wasteland. but not my lands because mine hrive and up, under and over with the green of the work the toilage and the drips of sweat that has salted the earth to raise that green. that perhaps these barren fields are yours; are those of the ones … Continue reading luminary
when things happened
Compassion: Baby, baby you in there? I push open the door, the music blasting penetrating the walls of the apartment… I enter the room and there you are with your back to me, her leg in your hand. I want to say you’re kissing which indeed you are but I can imagine how her lips … Continue reading when things happened
