All those summers,
when innocence...

The squawking parrots open
the first bars of morning...

The world is crumbling,
life has gone insane...

Rowing into the still lake
My heart...

The robust reality,
mundane hours slip...

Holding space for grief,
even without words...

Anger
is...

Ocean,
sky...

I shouldn’t be eating the crisps,
but pass them over please...

I don’t have space
for grief...

We were everywhere
and now we’re nowhere...

As the world continued to spin
around the sun in an endless...