Quietly, the wind comes, transforming into a pointed dagger of a muse. The murdered landscape of colors bleeding, trying to ingest the muse. A quarrel between violet homes defeated and uprooted. Unfurling stitches of dead mouths. Colors deformed. Bright neons & curled blues. A white sky now turned red, opaque. This space, an empty eye.… Continue reading Unfurl

Eyes of Words

No, I don’t write to cherish your cotton melodies. An orange boy sleeps as I write and decorate my pages with mannequins of moist thoughts. There is a broken periphery as my words, letters unfurl the unsaid. The corrosion of tanned face, the bleeding of fingers onto this sheet that absorbs my coconut ink, seems… Continue reading Eyes of Words

The Ritual.

Darling, my lips measure your spaces and wounds with the thumb, I knit seismic waves on your back Paradises stitching, lands coinciding inside Like a wildflower, I bloom here. Soils: A bark of memories, red and black. I travel beneath the surfaces and measure the cleaving knots, dome-shaped illusions. Light strikes the stardust and I… Continue reading The Ritual.


      Pellucid petals of lust, I, lean over to smell the paper, Where I lament my dead hopes burning ferociously. My pen is pervicacious inclined to savour the smoke ignited. The words are my soul, Insatiable I am dipped in its white corona. Cathartic particles of serenity forms as I write my love,… Continue reading Paper-Cuts