#201 (discarded)

once more I wake up at night  darkness wraps me tight yet my eyes pierce the umbra shadow of an old lamp resting forgotten discarded in the clutter of broken things and broken memories quaint seems the shape of the odd thing my fingers reaching out to touch ancient brass and torn canvas returning recollections … Continue reading #201 (discarded)


#177 (traces of lavender)

grey puddles taunting his wet ankles splish-splash the droning of constant rainfall blocking out the soft vows he whispered in the sweetest of embraces traces of lavender rekindling the memory of that night under the stars when all the lights had seemed to dance for the two of them the full moon their witness cirrus … Continue reading #177 (traces of lavender)

#173 (darkness pierces every corner)

the ones you lost have now been found riding like mad a merry-go-round the one to hell and back, my dear don't fear the reaper for she's near the gift of life the prize of dying we grind and toil and keep on trying three wishes granted if you dare mischievous fairies they don't care … Continue reading #173 (darkness pierces every corner)

#138 (whetting the edge)

between black dots and jagged beaks he'd been stashing away some memories for a rainy day ♦◊ the pendulum relentlessy cutting away each moment before midnight ♦◊♦ some said the night was still young while  actually darkness kept erasing all signs of aging ♦♦♦  dreams carelessly poured out as intimacy got lost in the perpetual … Continue reading #138 (whetting the edge)

#135 (within the cup of quiet grace)

♥ the night was old all stories told as chastity had long been sold the mirrored passion in her gaze entranced him in a scarlet haze he drank it all the tears and sweat his restless fears, doubt and regret within the cup of quiet grace he glimpsed a single solemn face the queen of … Continue reading #135 (within the cup of quiet grace)

#129 (the night keeps drowning me)

  the quiet bares its teeth while I'm watching the passing of deep valleys moving wearily visions of derailed trains paint fear behind my eyes raindrops racing along black glass destination unknown I follow the tracks a clumsy explorer waiting for the light but the night keeps drowning me 12th Februrary 2017

#126 (between tender plumage)

  allegedly we dreamt of spring while cutting blocks of black ice forming clusters of coldness until our fingers gave in to numbness and within our aching bones the seeds of fever started to bloom the flowers of our anticipation withered away like the last seconds of daylight being replaced by the prospect of obscurity … Continue reading #126 (between tender plumage)