Empty spaces are saturated by omnipresence
when mirrors recognise...
I picked up the letter on
the dresser, leaving behind...
Anything ephemeral
in its burn...
The seconds go on by forevermore
As they stare at each others' eyes...
Until there’s nothing
more to love...
If fortune favours multi-rhythm words
By counting syllables amongst its boons...
she crawled like a myriad of bugs
across my skin, biting with her beaks...
There are things that cannot be
put into poems or words of beauty...
it stirs
in the deepest...
How well our feelings,
how well we wish for others...
Your silence
is killing tiny...
When I was blind
I thought she was a map...