YES!

  it is a YES yes to Paris the rippling water and YES in the gullet of silver fishes yes to the thick splash allaying fear and peeling hearts yes to the face that looms above me in it’s zombie mask yes to hot pain that forges space within my gut yes yes yes in Bocaccian

The Swan

  I am blue-white brazen and hopeful with wrinkled fate, I stop time and drown the moon dust I am remote enlightened musical my eyes are wet my sword is drawn I turn to you with purple dirt upon my face I am the swan of fairy tales my neck is soft…. feathers and blood the stone beneath

Snakes Teeth

  I think fear, as sharp as snakes teeth black head weaving I think sex, thick twining thoughts I think creation desperate concepts that one cannot resist I think healing aggressive deliberate unrelenting in my dreams under me my darkness resolving ascending complete absorption I choose not to resist.

Crackling Leaves and Soup

  My father is here to entice art from the sky, his instrument of choice, a sort of…. musical obscurity, an ancient  silver rising of voices and tide. He swings a racket to capture dreams, and earths them ….. like lightening, crackling leaves and soup. He is a lover of marmalade bitter and orange and his smile you ask

The Magic Word

  Aladdin whispers…. sesame seeds… and perfumed oil, finger skin that delves the dim green path and slips me and births me….through I unfurl in enchanted space alit with mystic gold my life I am squeezing through this density to flee the skirts of shame to shuck this beautiful, binding lie      

Kiss This Smile

  Kiss this smile this laughter my bark my leaves brushing touching singing this smile alights svelte angel wings of allure eternal now kiss it with your favourite colour, prolong this forever it is yours

I Release Myself To Heat

so cccccold but seeking f or warmth feeling for flames orange purple fat red hot fury Oh Agnayi,  my love Chantico, my heart Freya, my flickering, my breath Ida, my belly Sekhmet, my life OH Vesta! to baste in to glory with in dancing fever Oh Fuchi, your torrid fingers arouse in me desire but

NO Archetype

  Examine evaluate analyze diagnose hard arsed soul imposed assumption medicated string by string frightening conditioning ! who are YOU? to be or not to be is not the question yet question it all I am an angel devil child murderer mother malignant benign fearful gastronomical lovepoison sex kitten crocodog nothing here is real no archetype

so small

    fluid blue and velvet touch this skin so small I am a faerie flit and purring cat soft and quiet in this intensity of space that intrigues and vibrates a particle a cell an exhalation breathe in and h a h h h h h h h h h so small you can only

I Make You Move

  I am silk on my pretty bicycle red wings and fearlessness I am a brazen bee flying heart first and chanting my fingers pass like spirit over teasing lips a fay cast with cherry juice joy I live in the mind of all things I make you move.