the silence of your shadow is louder when you don’t watch it –
as the memory of someone in your mind, is just a fictional
character of them. this life: walking on the thin lines of what the
eyes have seen; the unseen waits for us at the great beyond.

the narrative of love still waits on loads of blank spaces –
empty smiles towards pretty faces. but until we find the one
that helps us smile in true depth, the ones we meet are truly
just strangers in the end.

and the days love to dash in sands of time – for no one really
has all the time in the world to live out a thousand lifetimes.
still, we’ve lived a thousand experiences of a thousand lives
in this one life. living as bodies, connected by familiar tears,
stranded or motivated by fears, the highs given by the touch
of two skins, we live as bodies, die from our bodies and will
live on as spirits in the end.

                                   and to that end, the end of this poem.

empty cup that fills my mind – down to earth man
sips the ground; a scent that erodes all other scents
swirling steam, a bittersweet dream – fruitful energy
given by the swirl of it’s heat; as my tongue ripens
to this flavour in my cup

the days are always a rush; a cup of coffee sort of helps
me slow it all down – thrown seeds to grow in my heart,
rejoicing in the love I have for my morning drink. reaping
for more, coffee seeds planted in the coffee machine.

cos some days I work myself like a machine – I need to
oil the machine, with the fuel from that coffee bean
the goosebumps rise on my skin, I’m in love with this
              coffee bean