Tuesday, October 20, 2015


I may have amnesia for everything. But there are things I'll never forget, like the way you speak, the feel of your palm, the things you've told me and that expression you get when you're about to call me crazy again. And these things I'll hold inside, crushing down on them, burying them beneath the weigh of my beating heart, heavy from so much running. I'll hold these memories down forever. Until they crystalise and I am left with just a sparkle in my eye, the diamond of that memory, so glorious as the shining moment of its birth. Or maybe just a tear.

Saturday, October 17, 2015


And everything pulled me in different directions. I was a seed, airborne with feathery wings, and the thing that drew me swiftest was the sight of you. But eventually, I couldn't see any longer.
I'm still drawn, still tossed and thrown and flown. And I can't land. I cannot see. I cannot be. Yet every known wind carries me. Until I don't know who I am, and nothing matters anymore.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The purpose is the purpose of the purpose

Not for the polite or easily offended

(I sincerely urge you not to read this if you are in the above category)

   on a mild afternoon,
You may travel to a calm place 
Fitted with cool smooth marble
And, there, let a stream of clear liquid
Eschew gently from beneath you
So serenely 
That it encourages you to pen
Just a few words
On peeing.

Friday, April 10, 2015


Like muck children we were
Born into the sun
Playing on beaches with no sunscreen
Wearing skirts and dresses without stockings
Ours was a carefree existence

We needed no sophistication
Not to know the names of wines
Nor the shame of less than adequate etiquette
In fact, we were inarticulate
And we never stopped
Not even once
To check someone's "last scene at" on whatsapp