Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Where I Live

This is where I live. In the smooth moss and sludge of the great greygreenblue, I lie serpentine to the floor. Sky streams far overhead, casting smoky patterns through the ripples. This is where I live, at the bottom of the ocean, at the lowest place on earth, beneath gallons and gallons and gallons and gallons. Beneath, at the bottom, vision clouded by venerable glass-formed algae, the water is mouldy green and still. And the fish are my company, the hermit crabs and the flounders, but they never stop to say hello.

Friday, July 5, 2013


When she smiles, I hope everything is covered in shades of gold. I wish for you to see things in the softness of honey-coloured light, as if dusk were falling or a shimmering dawn breaking; I wish on you that wonder that comes from watching every sharp edge disappear with the light. I want life for you to be peachy, filled with grace, and dewy, dusted with nothing but loveliness. When you look at her, I wish that you could see all of this. And more. So much, much more.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

The Things You Notice

Him: Well-defined jawline, clean brow, too-thick hair, athletic frame, crisp shirt, dusty shoes...
Her: Gorgeous face, wedding ring.

Saturday, February 16, 2013


I'd like to thank the trees, for being my company when I had none. And the leaves, for being my friends. And the sun for shining just a little longer, till I saw the gorgeous dragonfly, just above my head.

And I thank the weeds for coming home with me, "Thank you for sticking by", I whisper, pulling them from the laces of my shoes.

Friday, February 8, 2013

An Experiment, in Winter

I've watched the months as they've passed; slowly slipping cotton silk. And all the birds in the trees, damp songs singing. "Winter hasn't left yet", they're cooing, canoodling, cuddling their eggs till it's warmer. And behind shuttered glass, humans, in their warm woolly winterwear, warming themselves by a kindly fire. Above my left ear, the soft white wind rustles the trees, snow begins to peters off leaves; and freshly fallen it turns to muck beneath the soles of my feet.

The Part of You That Is Me

When there was some hope in the universe
When there is some light
I couldn't have been more wrong
And you couldn't have been more right

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

"My heart must be *this* tiny", she said, holding her fingers a centimetre or two apart.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Double Bed

When two people get married or cohabitate, or even spend the night together; how do they decide who takes which side of the bed? I never figured out how my parents chose and I've been wondering ever since.