Some of us are
tucked into the epicentre...

Angel of the east,
whose storm billows in my chest...

Sometimes
I desire myself...

Echoing up the street,
a busker's trumpet...

Crosses and arrows.
X's and O's...

The moment
you stop visualising...

when everyone had forgotten my name,
she rose over me...

You exist in every
photograph, on every wall...

Melissa was wearing a tangerine dress
patterned with daisies, kicking her legs over...

Come morning,
there were golden hues...

You wielded your tongue like a dagger,
it cut across my teeth...

who only knows love
as fleeting as...