His face displays such ageing purity;
So innocent yet hiding so much pain...

I remember that dream, like I dreamt it last...
And I can only hope that it can be repeated...

December used to be my favourite month,
Bitter coldness was such an attraction...

It's as if the glare from the fuelling sun
is now brighter than i ever thought it could be...

He's a man with a past, scars all around,
Which have engraved themselves into him...

The fire of the autumn sun
burns against the grain...

You always had that special gift,
A true talent: making people laugh...

Mystery Life
The freshness of the air beats against her skin...

In a nest, cradled by the pulse of his mother's...
his mind races like firecrackers and rainbows...

Eyes
stare out...

Midnight lights and blueberry skies
match the smile on your face...

Look between the indentations of
skin that has aged through...