She walks in Beauty

by Lord Byron She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the … Continue reading She walks in Beauty

Sung by a domestic flower

soles lit seriously by lectures of ancient stones blooming breeze carries away depressing thoughts as little as hairs of grass tight feelings poking out in dirt under sunshine exaggerated view condensed with wilderness unconscious of its uneasiness eclipses cradle found its match through reflectiveness political speech to upturn quietly striking opportunity which - looking into … Continue reading Sung by a domestic flower

Stop and repeat. Black swan colour.

Black parts of me, a swan uncovered, contrasting ink I had spilled on my feathers, in my excessive dance, was it a good choice? Thought white was a great bore. I wanted different, coloured deeply, under my skin. My own demon. Starving, famine of my soul, destructive whispers of "love me please" I shall not … Continue reading Stop and repeat. Black swan colour.