Poetry Blogs (2013, innocent)
I liked the way he looked at me
Like I was the only thing he could see
or that was worth looking at.
I liked the smile he made for me
A tailored face, specifically
to tell me what he couldn't say.
I liked the things that went unsaid
The message in the nod, the tilt of his head,
the eye contact held too long.
I liked his arms, skin brushing skin
Friday 18th January 2019 6:05 pm
She, born of the forge and cast from the pyre,
The fire of her birth soon vanished to iron,
Cold and lifeless, but still with a purpose
And then, from the worthless womb of coals
Her sisters, countless in their tumble
Collide and stumble to the four corners
Of the earth. Rapidly consumed
Exhumed for a thousand years
Or perhaps two…
Here she, in the wood of the pu...
Wednesday 9th October 2013 3:09 pm