Vagrancy often visits my doorstep
and talks and talks of...

Suppose this broken bodied man
once dreamt in avalanches of colour...

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

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

Some of us are
tucked into the epicentre...

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

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

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

Sometimes
I desire myself...

At night, thoughts are magnified
by the rattling of gunfire...

Deep, rigid lines will
one day...

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