could you take my picture, 'cos i won't remember ?

(a mermaid lurks in your waters.)



There was a boy in the bookstore today with

thick, knotty eyebrows

and heavy lids under heavy lashes.


His face is soft and always tainted with

an air of sadness,

even when he smiles :

it warms my heart.

Little shivers of heat through my ribcage.


But his eyes ...


The boy in the bookstore is in love with a mermaid.

She has long, red hair

in a… Continue

Blue-eyed boy,

dressed to drown in sorrow.


Blue-eyed boy,

I won't see him tomorrow

(If i just stand here)


I watched the blue-eyed boy wade up the river:

It churned at his feet.

It spun out his soul, on thread .

Rewinding. Spinning. Tangling.

Loosing himself, again, in thread.


Blue-eyed boy

At the tip of the water

Where the river dances in a rage of blackened blue

straight into the sea.

Blue-eyed… Continue

Lust is violent
but love is much gentler.

Lust wants to bite your lips
and dig it's nails into your bare back.
Love is kind, it will settle
for curling it's fingers in your hair.

Lust is passion. Heat :
A burning fire tearing through barren plains
called desire.
It is to crave a body threaded, entwined
with your own.

Lust will make you curl your toes.

Love is a sanctuary. Light :
A lighthouse on the scarred rocks to bring
the seafarers home.
The smouldering embers of a d… Continue

I made a wreath,
broken branches
tied with
black bows.

Violins and pianos whilst i weaved

A delicate sonata:
Quavers to make
the wind quiver.

An elegant spin of a wrist,
laced with thin white scars.
I pushed the lilies
through.

The music . . .
Stopped.
And it all fell apart

The branches crashed,
like copper cymbols making
a cacophany of sound.
The violins wailed as
white flowers swam in the mud.
All the piano keys turned grey.
and the conductor shrugged on his coat to leave. . .

and the me… Continue