A car passes by and honks with its windows down I can’t see who it is, but I think I know It could be you and then her, stopping by … Continue reading Face
Inconsolable heat. In our thatched minds the rain falls Beneath, you were dressed in a blue shirt, cargo pants, almost ready to go. The door behind you shut, I’m still … Continue reading Creation
Without any intention, I found myself sitting on the floor with my guitar, and then, a song. I’d refrain from thinking that it stems from a quiet desire, or pain, … Continue reading Atopos
The curtains are drawn I draw the curtains apart Dust, then the sun stubbornly leaking through each crevice Demanding attention, scarring skin. Today, there’s a new world outside: Some mountains, … Continue reading Utopia
I have a strikingly incorrigible memory of cold tofu, as if I’ve had it before, snugged in a cramp Japanese-style bar with dated stools and lacquered dark-wood tables. Steam perforates … Continue reading Reading Tofu
I’ve never been this alone. Hours would pass without an inkling of a sound, but my world crumbles irrevocably in noise. It’s as if my thoughts precede me, and watching … Continue reading Noise.
After the rain, trees waver to the wind, and they rustle when a bird seeks shelter, waving to an onlooker from a balcony. Inching in all directions, they fight and encroach, and on good days, are the companions we need.
Their green and brown tendrils yearn to be embraced, so they shed their leaves, hoping we’d pick them up, feel its veins and keep them between our hands (or between a favourite book), before letting them go again.