A world map puzzle rearranged,
haven for the lost,
home to those too strange
to the outcasts
to the insane,

Where hearts collide
and children of the sun thrive
because storms
can’t keep them
inside

because
here
they find the moon
in their skin
rain in a stranger’s eye
and know that they are kin

because
here
there are no borders
to separate our brains
we are all one
yet never the same

because
here
culture runs deeper than blood
in veins
in its palm this world
where spirits roam
and dreams grow


-kisses
drawn
upon nurtured souls.

Line up my broken bones
over a floor of frost-bitten marble
so that you may brand their ice
with the bruises
of your lips.

Sink your teeth into the river
that floats through
the blueness of my veins,
and lands as a stranger
in the velvet of your mouth.

Let my wavering sigh
travel down
the treacherous nape
of your strained neck,
as you trace
the freckled porcelain
of my skin
-to map
the city of my dreams-

-in this ghost town of powdery breaths,
you will *****
the tallest
the greatest
of all monuments.

So hear my plea and
immerse my vision
in the echoes of
your uttered promise as
the tearing muscles
of my desperate heart
reach to grasp
your empty words.

What is our most prized possession
If not the chamber of memories
That we so fearfully keep
Within the confines of our minds.

Every inch of our power
Lives in a constant struggle
To guard this chest of fading treasures
From the writhing hands of time

Yet we have become so caught up
In this twisted dance
With the ticking clock,
that we have forgotten
these memories are naught
but disintegrating ghosts,
whom desperately cling to us,
as a shipwreck survivor
clings to driftwood,
hanging from our thoughts
on trembling strings
-soon to snap.

Despite all our efforts
They will never be immortalised
-and so we are condemned
to drown
in a sea of nostalgia.

His body sinks to the depths
of fading thoughts, returning, shifting
sand-dune visions.
She
bathes in the trickle of letters escaping burnt lips
like when she ***** in the moonlight
adrift his month-long lunar withdrawal
-or when she lets the breeze hit her
to erase the thunder.

She
traces his words with her heart
following lines on a crumbling map
-callused fingertip rubbing against
yellow paper
as once he would trace a corpse’s veins.

Aubergine voice then seeps through pores
into her vacuous chest
-prying open
bleeding heart

heart which hides in a corner
of her quiet brain

brain that heals him from memories
of immortalized hollow of her necks against
ghostly wrists
memories burning
worse than fire.

Together they lie in the dark amidst
deserts of emotions,
pools of memories,
rivers of unshed tears,
-daylight drowsily approaching
to chase away
lingering dreams.

where did your eyes go
when my heart
decided to slip down
the sides of your veins.

where did your eyes go
when my nails raked your shoulders
in search of answers
to pointless questions
(was that all in vain?)

where did your eyes go?
for now there must only
be hollow sockets in their place
if you can’t see
the river that’s drowning
my fading face-

but even worse;

where did your tongue go
so that you don’t feel
the vile after-taste
of memories put to waste
when your skin
brushes her lip to
burn holes
through my brain.

And worst of All
-where did your hands go?

the emptiness of your fingertips
tickling my breath
now resonates as you trace
the curve of her hip
that mingles with mine
for we are not so different I and she
she
and
I
(strangely
inter
twined)

I am not
afraid
of death.

I am
afraid
of not living.

I am afraid of
lips that shut to the rhythm of
a pulmonary valve that shuts to the rhythm of
my beating heart that shuts off
The red rawness of air
from searing my lungs
so that I
become
numb.

The Embrace of my veins and my heart
has tightened.
Arteries wrap around the red flesh
as would the vines of a ****
-around the trunk of a tree.

I feel I have become rooted
in the rotting Earth
while my branches grasp
for the impossibility
of fragmented clouds.

My empty blood travels
-in hues of violet and indigo-
through the imprisoned tree
that is my Body.

I reach both extremes
but I am never satisfied.

Whether a tear
of silver
or a ghost hidden
behind night’s pall;
she rules
every inch
of our flesh.

Cold iris of
radiating whiteness
-pure.

In my mind
hollow stars litter life on Mars;
I wonder
is that who we are?

Rage seeps soft skin
skin burnt red cheeks
burnt eyes to
night someone
dies…

It’s so dark
I want more,
do you know what lies
beyod the door?

Gazes glued
to imprisoned hues
cruelty blooms
but no one moves

blood stains taint rain
another thought in our brains
-do you really think
I’m insane?

Greens turn black, blues turn grey
-behold the greatness of today.

In my mind
tears mold to truer forms
metaphor for metamorphosis
-there is no time there is no space
but there is an end
that we’ve misplaced.

Face the truth:
it’s easier to lie,
lets resuscitate the creativity
denied.

Lose your fear for transformation,
without it there is no hope for creation;
embrace change, rearrange,
find a living reincarnation.

Where it is dark, there will be beauty.
Where it is light, there will be beauty.
The answer is there for us to take;
so wake up, realise,
find growth in your mistakes.