come the hours of calm.
Where the ether is still,
still enough to see its reflection.
Minds and fingers twitch,
the heady rush of this world’s
many tempting deaths, abandoning reality,
in return to the cold sobriety of the bedroom ceiling.
for Alina Baraz
Transient through the Urban Flora of London’s south,
I Drift atop rolling waves,
their depths rising, enveloping all
in each passing rock of the Bakerloo.
Deluged in Pretty Thoughts, serene
I Unfold words with each bars heartbeat,
poetry within each ear’s bud -caressed in my carriage,
I blossom your Jasmine words.
I dived in bed,
A brief respite before I leave.
For a moment I smelt you;
Your scent in my sheets,
I was happy.
I was with you.
His tailored figure draws devotion
by all who see him.
draped en noire,
his life coiffed a delicate duality
black and ecstasy.