I sat on the cold wooden floor in front of the glass

door that led out to the front yard - eating a cookie,

watching the rain. The whole world seemed to glow

with a new vitality - luridly, greyer, but more

vigorous than anything draped in the sun before.

The hoary stones that lined the surface of the

concrete seemed to move beneath the ( Read more... )

Those soft drenched conversations
Under dream covers, heavy and warm
When your voice is in my ear
And your breath against my cheek.

They leave me wanting, needing you here again.

But you won’t come. Not for a long time.

And that makes me sad.

"the boy looks down at her

and she looks back up at him.

how much she's being looking forward to this moment;

the dim lights softly illuminating

the intimacy of linked hands,

of clandestine glimpses

and warm heartfelt hugs..."

those words, those entries.

reading them over and over,

until each single phrase is locked;

etched deep into my mind

( Read more... )

I’m gonna see me kissing you babe
in technicolour.


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A honey crusted moon
Suspended in a soup dish of mercury
Not unlike my kiss upon your upper lip
Toeing the edge of madness
With an antsy delight that sweeps through
like June winds between sky scrapers.

It was carpark lithe tempos
And cymbal slashing heart beats.
Chrome tipped hot passion
Sweat stained arc welding
Rhythmic rationale with Plath overtones
( Read more... )