A bus journey to a bus stop then off and waiting for another in some English town or other. Cigarettes. No, no cigarettes. It’s bad for me, that’s what she says, and what she says goes. The number 24 arrives soon after. We get on and sit downstairs at my insistence because there might… Read more

  Your cigarette, your dress. Those curious eyes that seek me out in my dreams as the sky grows bible black. It whispers, and it condemns. It fingers and itches and seduces like the marble gods that knock on my window in the dead of night. In a gust of wind, the universe tickles your… Read more

  There are flashing lights that flicker before my eyes. There are strange sensations spinning within me that only you could evoke, and yet your absence is felt more than anything. Swallowing mouthfuls of air as if my lungs were made for anything but breathing, I shake my head and see you dancing in the… Read more

  There are outlines around their bodies. They shimmer and shine and reach out to me like the face of a lover from a photograph not yet taken. With my eyes darting this way and that, I embrace the decay that these hours bring and feel alive for not having given in. This transformation, it’s… Read more

  There’s a memory of me plunging my hand into a plastic jar full of Opal Fruits on my fifth birthday. I was in some kind of nursery school located on a road called Pastures Way. Whenever it was your birthday, you got to grab as many sweets in one go, and then you blew out… Read more

  The stars and the moon. The music of our lives and something to do with the slithers of light that come through her fingers as she takes herself to a place without darkness. It’s all white light and electricity and teeth and gums and curled toes and ceilings and swaying light bulbs. It’s all… Read more

  It clings to your fingers as you stand there smoking your cigarette. It dribbles from your chin as your eyes shine like those of a cat’s as cars speed past like bullets. When it drips and drools and drips again from that pretty little wide-open mouth, I’m not far behind. When it tumbles to… Read more

  If I’m on a high, then I’ll take a bite out of you, but if on the other hand, I’m in the midst of a great depression, I’ll just curl into a ball and hide away somewhere like a dying animal does when it senses the end. If you get through my defences and… Read more

  In a slow embrace somewhere on the outskirts of nowhere, we smoke cigarettes wishing for war while remembering how simple things used to be back when there was only love. Love and Sunday afternoons and walks and talks and not much of anything else as the falling leaves above our heads acted as metaphors… Read more