a rushed moment

love is a place & through this place of love move(with brightness of peace)all places
yes is a world & in this world of yes live(skilfully curled)all worlds - e.e.cummings



I have never been able to complain to you about my nights which have collapsed fruitlessly into the dust of a soiled dawn for you deserve a soul in whose presence the world comes together for all eternity.


i touch your shirt sleeve, the cotton warm with your heart. a sensation i carry on my fingertips till today.


communiques of intimacy, all too soon over and yet unending.

mind-monsters

a melee of thoughts. our minds become their battlefield
mischievous goblins wander the alleys and backstreets of our minds. lurking in dark corners, on the watch-out for fresh, nubile thoughts. with their knobbly knuckles and mocking grimaces they murmur absurd tales weaving a shroud of doubts to the ceaseless noise of empty words and raucous laughter.

i'm happy to be me

i want to aplogise to myself for the asphyiating scorn I have reserved for myself for so long. how was it born and why did i nurse it?
random moments unravel threads of a silent wound. no one understands, least of all me myself. no one wants to understand the bitterness of curdled thoughts, of rancid longings.
going through old notebooks i realise i have sinned against myself.
still, i am happy to be me. perhaps loneliness is not about being alone. it is the abyss you fall into when you abandon yourself.