A day had wrapped two frowns Around my shoulders Because the sun was indifferent So I stood on my hands And told a friend That sunburn Is a matter of perspective
Humanising the other is important in city life. Who is next to you on the train? Written from the Central line carriage, The Locker Room asks ‘what builds the social and cultural dynamic of the place you live in?’
Moral questioning: on the battle of guilt and forgiveness of the self.
Are these clothes the colour of my insides? Are yours?
Lines are comprised of the silences in letters And say more (It seems) Than the screams of obsolete profanity I steal them And they love me for the sweetness of manipulation’s lullaby If waterfalls could whisper away the fallacy of words I would wait for rain each day And soak in the reality of translucence […]
Nothing captures everything, forevermore