Fingertip reaches—rose glass-fractured sky,
but the world keeps turning, indifferent, blind.
We watch, we wait, we sift through the fallen ashes—
searching for warmth in a fire long gone.

Ghosts of wanting drift through the ebb,
feet sinking in time’s marrow-thick river.
Clawing at the hilltop, slipping, gasping—
but do we climb or just fall slower?

Love hums then shatters,
echoes down corridors we dare not tread.
The oaken river swallows its dead,
birds fall southward, wings brittle with regret.

Winter comes for all—darkness too.
Light flickers, just out of reach,
a mirage for the desperate, the reckless,
those who still run, still chase, still bleed.

But what if the answers unravel the mind?
What if understanding breaks us instead?
What if we lose ourselves,
seeking someone else to make us whole?

Is life’s significance just a joke told in passing,
laughter drowned in the howl of the void?
If misery loves company,
why do so many stand alone?

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0 and repeat]

We
fit toge
ther seamlessly
like the numbers on
a digital alarm clock,
moving without hesi
tation, from one figure to
the next, a movement of time transi
tioning,  unsettling, unnotica

bly building on and constructing ourselves
within the construction of time
itself. We are the only
static constant, the on
ly reliable source:
time keeps moving
forward, and
so will
we —

We are all falling,
Life is a drop towards ending,
You dear reader,
And I,
And we can no more delay or adjust the
Speed of our descent
Than flap our arms right now
And take flight towards the clouds,

And though we may aspire to the heavens
The only route out of life
Is down,
Drawn by that terrifying gravity
That draws us ever faster
As the years pass,
Accelerating steadily through childhood
Adolescence and young adulthood,

Streaking past the unknown
Mid point of our lives
But suddenly aware we have less to go
Than we can know and less to get
Than we already had,
And that as we hurtle out of middle age
Puts a scale to our brief existence,
And a reasonable sight of our end,

But these calculations are of no use,
As our muscles sag and our hair thins,
Skin wrinkled and transluscent,
Eyesight dimmed,
Because we are tripped
By illness or literally in a fall
And thus we reach beginning of the final bend,
Our flailing stops

As we reach our journey's end

He was the kind of man to catch your eye.
Maybe not at first.
The kind of beautiful that is skin deep.
His big heart which cared more than he let on.
His desire to put others first.
His fragile nature which he hid behind jokes.
His love which was like a kite.
He held on to the string afraid to let it fly.

She was a hurricane on a rainy night.
Blowing every which way looking for home.
She soon realised home was him.
His warm arms around her.
His soft kisses which turned hungry.
The way he touched her like he would burn up if he didnt.
Together, their song built to a crescendo.
Mystical music that played each night when they came to their special place.

He was afraid but he was solid.
His commitment was more than words.
More even than empty promises.
He showed up every night for months on end.
Waiting for the girl who had sadness in her eyes.
He instinctively knew that this girl would change his life.
He let her in a little at a time.
Sometimes a lot.

She longed for the nights when he would swoop in.
His need on his skin like a fitting shirt.
His attention a caress she would feel.
She yearned for the kisses that started an inferno and the touches like he couldnt get enough.
She wanted all of him; body, mind and soul.
Wanted to know him as intimately as she did herself.
She knew that losing him would wreck her.
But she dived in anyway.
A life without him was like living in black and white.
He was her greens and gold. Her coloured tapestry.
He would be her utter ruin but he was worth it.


He touched her and it made her feel more alive.
He painted stars in her skin
And wrote his name on her soul.
He showed her that sometimes going slow was ok.
Sometimes it was ok to hear the music in each other.
And he would always come back to her.
For that was their fate.

She danced into his arms and he waltzed into her heart.
Together, they fitted like a jigsaw.
They had a connection so bright.
One that couldn't be denied.
She became his queen, his every need.
She was addicted without a doubt.
Never had they felt something so real.
She whispered over and over,
Let me in. Trust in us.
She hoped one day he would let their love bloom.


He made her feel like she was a beacon.
The light that guided him home.
He was a moth drawn to her flame and told her he wasnt afraid to burn.
He just wanted to bask in her glow.
She was his inevitable girl.
The flame that made him feel all the things he never did before.
She completed him.