Never Mind.

So here we are again,

the same place, once again,

same conversations, same little confessions,

the same little cabin and cocktails,

collecting seashells for unmade necklaces,

white shirts over floral prints

over red lipstick

over transparent nail varnish

over oyster dinners and supermarket arguments.

The same spot under the same lighthouse:

red paint like our toenails and white like the shells placed in a line upon your back.

still investigating pearls under the bright sun:

golden sand stretched into the

crashing white waves into the

swaying blue surface into the

distant sunset;

year after year: one tight circle of security.

And then,

over the sound of roaring water

I heard you say you had fallen out of love with me.



2.46 AM

my mind is coaxed awake from a particularly long train of thought, not yet asleep not fully awake, it seems as if sweet dreams were being brought on

because I woke up in a million years—my soul floating up to the stars—my lips forming contentment in all its lazy, luxuriant glory,

my hair soft—even after ages in the sun—healing in the shade of night—my eyes heavy with the weight of your dreams and my senses are filled to the brim

my eyes are closing—i’m floating back down into sleep’s folding embrace and my mind is full of your soft peach lips and your sun warmed skin and your raven hair thick and curling between my fingers,

and I’m back again in your deep blue room and wind blown white curtains, your tumbling pile of books your unmade bed where your lips touched mine for the first time, your stack of records and films strewn around without a care because—because I’m full of you, you with your well-worn shorts and laughter bouncing off the walls, the evening sunlight turning you golden and Edward Sharpe singing Home.

And I am, I am. I am truly, truly, home.


You tell me you are not beautiful
but you don’t stop
to see
How the wind holds
her sweet breath
and whispers
her approval to me
How the sparkling waters
under the sunlight
burst forth like a million
rapid heartbeats,
How the stars of the calm
night glitter much so
bright, you don’t see.
You only tell me
you’re not
and don’t
I’m only
the wind,

When I’ll Come Home

Someday I’ll come home

But not just yet.

I’ll be leaving soon,
for greener pastures

Going far,
chasing the horizon
I’ll soak in the sun
Lie on the grass
Listen to the waves
the lapping lullaby.

Someday, I’ll come back.

I’ll climb white peaks
I’ll dive deep seas
I’ll learn an obscure tongue
Try a soup suspicious
wear a dress ostentatious

But, someday, I will come.

When the sun colours me warm
When the seas impart their song.

When the gulfs glitter,
And the sparrows twitter,

When the palm fruits turn bitter.

When the Sun sets orange and red,
And the sands in pink and chrome are set.
When the flamingoes fly home,
And the winds blow North
When day’s symphony is gone.
And I know what it is worth.

Then the night’s silence
And the melody of the stars
will remind me,
Of greener pastures
Of sparkling streams
Of a brick chimney’s steam
Of you –
When in silence and in subtle murmurs
I’ll hear the breeze beckon me homewards

Your silent gesture

I’ll come Home.

The Promise Of The World

The smile that trembles deep behind your tears
Is the promise of the world since the beginning of time

Even if I’m alone now, from our yesterdays
Today is born sparkling

Like the day we first met
You’re not in my memories

You turn into a breeze and touch my cheeks
Even after our parting in the afternoon with the sun beaming through the trees

The promise of the world won’t ever end

Even if I’m alone now, tomorrow is limitless
You taught me about

The kindness that lurks in the night
You’re not in my memories

So live forever in the song of the streams
In the colour of this sky, in the fragrance of flowers
In the Glitter of the stars
In the gleam of the moon
In freedom

For me, be the promise of the world