Growing Pains

You glide across your silky precipice, Enticed by spasms at the edges of your kingdom; You see nothing, Just a loose thread caught in the

A Tasty Smell

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; But how would it taste? Salty, Sour,

Swallowed by the Sea

Sailing swiftly along the salted seashore, Your whiteish throat flanks brown streaks That accentuate comedic orange brows. Amongst saline marshes and sunken reeds You build

A Local Disappearance

Your recent absences have become More pronounced; The late spring evenings are no longer Alive with the industry of your approach, And the flowers in

The Death of Titus

On the night that Titus fell His night nest was not empty, Not empty, but silent. His body still warm, Still warm to receive The

Spiralling Down

Walking backwards we follow Your trail of malevolence. Random doodles scrawled across the Loose soil lead us back to your nest, Where empty sacs of

An Elephant Never Forgets

Once they roamed across the plains like gods, Their gigantic frames drowning out the sun As they paraded in quiet contemplation. Jealous of their size

It’s Snowing Underwater

Beneath the shimmering surface of the sea Lie tiny specks of hope, Inconsequential fragments of life That work tirelessly to remove The years of smut

Fields of Green

A continent of purest blue begins to flow, an unstoppable force That spills towards the sea in cinematic slow motion. Pristine shades of sapphires that

Breaking Memories

You slide fluently through cool, coastal waters, A balletic grace with unparalleled force That silently slips between the spheres As a distant rumble announces time.