This house is aching in the wind,
dying boughs scrape against the roof,
I am afraid of the ghosts at my window.
I will slumber with an anxious heart
and awake with fear of life instilled within.

Expect nothing but stray notions,
I feel too transparent to exist as a form
of words and wonder. I will find myself soon.

Ambiguity and Imperfection

Your teeth tasted of green tea - 
I thought you hated green tea;
perhaps this was only a dream,
though the warmth of your skin felt so real.
Summer forest breath burning
against my throat, I inhaled
the dark mist of your voice
it spread like anxious fire.
Please do not drift away,
this shadow is yours to burn.

I sighed against my slumber,
the apparitions of the night
drank up the airs astray, 
I asked for their names,
their speech was of foreign tongue. 
It felt like déjà vu, stolen 
from another existence bled into veins.
I called out for a name familiar
the room swallowed the sound
without patience for reply.


Deerhunter - Cover Me (Slowly)


Dead clouds and lake dust,
lavender once filled the grey -
sanctity no more.


She wandered in circles, outside of her father’s harbourside apartment, under the gloom of August rain. Her eyes were fixated on the moored boats as they trembled on unsteady surfaces. The tides rushed against the piers, in moods erratic, rising and subsiding with aggressive disparity. She tasted salt on the air, it claimed her lungs.

Her dark, navy raincoat kept the weather from her bones, but the breeze marked her exposed face with traces of ocean frost. Harsh yet delicate as fading ember sparks. She reached outwards every so often, as if to catch the fragments of windswept cold; they passed through the gaps between her fingers regardless, so she resigned her hands to empty pockets. The sharp, pale evening would soon numb against her skin.

Hours filled the minutes, wordless thoughts filled her mind. She imagined freezing in place by the doorway; to become a statue greeting all that passed by with a worn, apathetic gaze. She expected a sinking despair to take over, yet it never seemed to occur. The question of what was meant to be felt overwhelmed her mind, and the answer would never arrive.

So she continued to stare, soundlessly, at the drunken, dancing vessels that moved with the anxious waves. The colour blue came to mind, it reflected and blurred with red along the water’s edge. A sullen siren sung over the grey. A dull voice murmured outside the haze of her vision. A hand fell softly on her shoulder. She did not speak, she just opened the door.


Desire blurred her lens,
grain-hazed photographs - darkness
clouding details bright.