I’ve a steep inclination to tell you That I anticipate your presence And that I savour your clarity And admire your savoir faire And that I love you everywhere.
When you cannot find yourself Go chase the shadows And know that you must be there Somewhere: Between each transient shape And the blistering sun.
There it was
There it was: The salt spray Wind sweeping Moon shining Love making Moodiness Suffocating Us with giddy Anticipation In your hand And my mind A heaving ebb And tidal flow.
You are a Darwin sunset You draw me in with The sound of your chatter The smell of your sea Your cheap wine caresses And plastic plates Grate against me And yet […]
This is torture that it is
This doubtful state –