Tracing my fingers across your skin is like drawing a bath: the rushing water, the stampede of your heart. The way the water pools and swirls, the lines in your knuckles. The quiet stillness, a fountain of safety, a lake creamy and pale. The light bouncing up onto the ceiling, the sparkle in your eyes. … Continue reading Bathwater


You are here so I know this must be a dream. Figments my mind has melded to make up for the goodbyes and the times I’ve watched you walk away. Here you are dressed in white, not heavenly or pure but blank canvas mine, arms open wide ready to embrace my colours - yellow, fuchsia … Continue reading Figments

Waxing Lyrical

The clock hands move past midnight and the witching hour for waxing lyrical begins. We talk about how the jigsaw edges of my heart fit perfectly in between your fingers, how we do not believe in ghosts or past lives but acknowledge the need to be ever present in each other's, how our feelings are … Continue reading Waxing Lyrical