Refraction
A prose poem
You ask a question and everybody replies, but the answer doesn’t fit, it doesn’t feel right. It’s as if they saw it through water, bent light. They think it’s at...
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Exorcism
In shrouds of evaporated rain
I sip tea behind glazed windows
In a baggy worn out t-shirt
Watching the sway of verdant
Null
Did not think it possible
To despise my own visage
At the memory of your preference to it
Your bespoke little curiosity
Wax
Mother
Did you count them
The minutes of relief you felt
After draping me in black
And yourself in white
Residue
I am a ghost at home
I haunt it from a different continent
Reality that consists that place
Exists across time and space
Famine
Be so beautiful that I can’t leave
That my wrists are bound
So that I have no choice but to follow you around
Even though my pieces...
Vulture
Repulsive child
What has become of you
Feasting on carrion without sparing
The old, sick, dead and false prophets
Routes to salvation all scorched
A...
Attic
There was never a story
Of such comprehensive sabotage
As yours and mine
Did you really have to make it this hard
To lose a thing...
Orison
Ever stand witness to decay in close range?
A renascence, truly
When there are lesions in my brain
Would I too, turn to god?
Definition
A prose poem
My ankle is shackled, and I cannot for the life of me remember when it happened, only that it’s connected to yours.
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Concession
Crowding me against a wall
Yield you say, with fervor and zeal
But my mind is quite unlike yours
By your side wouldn’t do for me
Barren Lands
Sometimes from your oasis
You cannot help but stare
At the vast nothingness in front of you
That once upon a home