My lids rise soft to frosted space,
Where absence dwells yet holds your place.
I see your face, so sweet, so dear—
Soft as petals, ever near.

Your breath, my favourite rhythm’s song,
A lullaby I’ve loved so long.
Your cheeks rest gently on the bed,
A pillow blessed beneath your head.

In this dream’s haze, I draw in close,
My lips to yours, a butterfly’s ghost.
And now I wonder, could it be?
Perhaps the pillow is worthy of thee.

and if words could dream
they would spend each night
yearning for a way
to justify how deeply
I love you

I hand-stitched you to my heart, threaded like the gods make their rules from above.
Oh, my delicate wonder, do you wander where my mind dares not rove?
All my preposterous atrocities are mine to give, and for you to love—
But will you love them?—is my wonder. Yes, you will—the Fates weave.

Oh, my tragic imperfections, you stand like my Trojan horse,
A gift of beauty, yet ruin hides within,
If your eyes could pierce the veil of my sin,
Would you fall as Troy did, or rise once more?

I feel the wound, fragile but bold,
Our names to be written on a grave, together etched in gold.
Side by side, we’ll lie beneath the earth’s embrace,
Two bound by fate, neither time nor death can erase.

As we march toward the end, hand in hand with fate,
Two souls entwined, neither early nor late.
And when death whispers, we shall not part—
For love, like legend, buries us both in heart.

Born quick-witted, but now too tired to speak,
This world drags me down into silence so deep.
The people, their words, like soil in my veins,
Until I couldn’t breathe, now I just feel the chains.
I sink into bed, a prisoner to the voices,
No escape, no choices.

I once begged the sun to tear through the night,
But even that struggle feels too far from sight.
Once a typhoon, I raged, I drowned in its form,
Now the rain softly falls, dulled and worn.
It seeps into my skin, a quiet decay,
Lingering forever, with nothing left to say.

I recognized it—that other soul was yours, dipping near mine,
Rare like the moments when stars brush the earth.

I’ve taken you into me, as much mine as my own skin,
You breathe with the glimmer of a falling star.

You brushed the earth once more in your quiet brilliance—
Such a constellation you are to me, and more.

Evening air and dry text replies
It is a cold winter day,
in the midst of July.

Clear and loud silence,
surrounding her steps.
The sudden reflex to deflect.

A random call. A sudden ‘yes’.
Opening door, a familiar face.
Same old, same old.. exhausting exchange.

Dancing hands,  soulless gaze.
Curious hands, hypnotising embrace.
Rushing hands, the usual regret.

Lust overdoses, her soul feels sore.
Another heart rash. Repeat. Regret. Repeat.
emotional hangover,  

             unread morning-after text.