First breath, upon our birth
A journey begins here on earth...

“‘ere your current bun”
What! my son...

The birds singing their
chorus at dawn...

No news is good news
apart from the car garage...

My heart is deserted
without the grace of your...

Water-coloured tears drip-
rolling and weaving through crimson twilled...

the weather feels,
moody...

How sound affects me
waking before my alarm...

Boris under parliament
Request to spell out and...

Nightmares
reoccurring...

When romance becomes rare
not much love in the air...

It was difficult to
seek you in the dark...