and how they protrude so vulnerably
against your flesh, as if a semi hidden...

Ravens croon with
ravenous laughter...

You wield your
tongue like an assassin's...

Did you love this city’s winter murk?
the fog settling on the river...

We are locked in our lighthouses,
and the chasms of ocean...

it clings to your skin,
woven through the wool...

Ode to the man who once learned to weep,
Ode to the winter, the shepherd and his sheep...

is the colour of
my better wishes...

Love is the only joke
in which I fell for...

You wear fangs
to kiss me...

The sunrise is blushing pink,
seeping through gaps in the curtains...

It is not the heart
that suffers most...