And you feel like home, like the smell of Mum’s cooking Or my Dad using too much garlic in his risotto For You linger longer than the rest Your scent sleeps on my scarf marks my skin with an aroma unknown to anyone else but me Your touch like a spark A shock against … Continue reading Aroma Unknown
The tip of your finger, your tongue, your eyelash outlines my silhouette in semi-permanent stain. I knew from the first touch you were, we were only temporary. Only. Not wholly. For the time being. But your mouth imprints my own and for something half-hearted and incomplete, you've made a home out of me.
Isn’t it bizarre how I’ll see my reflection ten years later and desperately crave, miss, wish, hiss for the face that once was. When right now I pull it a part I think and yearn for the future I worry about what’s to come and picture myself in pictures captured with my loved ones … Continue reading A Face
Ruler marks across the country scribbled lives and pencilled-in faces, adjoining places with families and names they don't know. They'll just pass them through the window. A snap-shot, no, scrapbook, just quick visions of insight into their person. The clothes they wear, suitcase or phone a face without a name A smile is enough. … Continue reading 18:19
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by validation from Instagram praise, and seeing the world through their phone’s camera lense. Who absentmindedly critique a stranger’s outfit, or snarl in envy at her relationship, advertised on Facebook like a billboard. Who forget their friend’s birthdays, for memory is unnecessary when notified by an … Continue reading HOWL (Allen Ginsberg) – My version