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
Reflections on communism, inspired by the water colour of a Korean artist/friend/soldier that I crossed paths with in the wise city of Sofia, Bulgaria.
The chapter on burning and touching
Premise: we are thriving off the lives that criss-cross around us, leaving paper trails.
Note to self
Sense is the seeing, believing, the touching, tasting, the being
The slopes that rise and fall With our breath between them Are a sihloutte of green hips On the horizon: Suspended across the skies In an effortless sprawl, They are wild thighs To the wondering mind As a pen is to paper The incarnation of daydreams.
I have a vision of the shapes and words needed To say that I remember when we perched on secret ledges; The edges of a branch never broken but bonded By the pledges we made in the night time, To fly together. The sky saw us dance with stars and sing a salute, Farewell to […]