And so a cliche I've become, or something like a whoresome nun , and thoughts of us are wholesome none, they blaze above and slice the sun which tears to pieces one by one, my doorways that my demons shun. And memorable I try to be, before the deluge swallows me, of moaning lips both... Continue Reading →


Hard and slow…

I'm dreaming...   I sit on a window ledge. Outside it is pouring with rain and droplets drip, drip, slide down the window pane. I am mesmerised and watch them as they race towards me, pouring with every breath I take. I'm wearing nothing but a loose, sheer night shirt; it slouches off my shoulder... Continue Reading →

Just Once…

Difficult to say these words, Perhaps they don't exist. Perhaps I have to pluck them out  Of some ethereal mist.     Perhaps the things I need to say Are meant for lips, not ears. And when I try to whisper them I kiss you with my fears.   Difficult to say these words, Perhaps... Continue Reading →


I held a poem, kept it safe, I warmed it in my palm. I stroked its words and kissed its eyes It's storm I wished to calm.   Its raging flood, it would not rest, I held it tightly to my chest I heaved my trembling, ardent breast And praised it like a Psalm.  ... Continue Reading →

Ode (not really) to Writing

Lose yourself in fiction. Come on, woman. You can do this.   All of the above she says to herself, as she does most of the more pertinent things in life. All to herself. She , her own best friend and a best enemy, and not a "frienemy", such a fucking vulgar word. Fucking vulgar.... Continue Reading →

Entangled Thus

Walk with me in lands unknown, Where wild flowers bloom, lush...overgrown, Hold my hand and look my way, Usher me to light of day, And if the curtains I should draw, Coerce me out, unlock the door. We'll watch the stars and  moonlit night, I'll know it's you, Bathed in my light.  

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