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a Apr 2016
red soft cotton

of the maroon persuasion

glided with the girl

as the guitar strummed

the fairy lights

and the hearts dance.

A sign of life.
Draft
a Apr 2016
It's 6 am

And I’m still here,

Cold feet and heavy eyes
Rough draft
  Feb 2016 a
ryn
.
                         
O         
         o       o
O          
                  O      o        
O    
•fill our beak-
er with un-
told chem-
icals•com-
patible  so-
lvents that
fizz... with
bubbles•m-
ix them in to get
the most homogene-
ous of solutions•introdu-
ce heat in the likes of passion
•never a clean reaction, there will
be residue• never right the first time,
failed attempts will be a few......• but once
distilled from undesirable impurity•........then
handle the mixture with utmost sensitivity........•
you'll get a result that can't be bought with money•
because this love in our hearts is the product of



pure chemistry

.
  Feb 2016 a
ryn
I once professed my love to the wind...*    

I had professed that I admired the way
     it had caressed my face.  
           The way it cupped my cheeks    
   and combed through
                 my tousled hair.

I once professed my love to the wind...    

I had professed that I was infinitely enamoured        
with its playful but gentle ways.            
The way it would upset            
the serenity of my clothes.      
          The way it would engulf me cool        
on a hot sunny day. 

I once professed my love to the wind...    

I had professed that I get addicted to the way
it would reach into my lungs  
and abscond with my breath.    
Leaving me asphyxiated for a brief moment      
before mischievously  
introducing new air;
hale and fresh.  

I still profess my love to the wind...    

I'd profess my adoration for the way    
she fills my sails full      
and my heart full of hope.        
For I am a lone sailor        
in a crowded ocean.      
Sailing in a vessel bound for nowhere...      
Traversing time and space      
with my love, my breeze...          
my air.              

.
a Feb 2016
Bodies intertwined
breaths hugging and soft
the pillow
like velvet in that moment
and sleep
a mesmerising film
a limerick,
evoking a smile
just a quick draft
a Feb 2016
amongst all the insanity and
the ruckus
there’s a white noise
a place the mind drifts to
in order to escape
the harshness of it all
a whistle
in the crowd of chatter
a beam of light
in the misty air
just a rough draft

— The End —