Tuesday, August 2, 2011


to become a trace of something or otherwise at the painted door or collapsing cathedral
a wisp of shredded photos flailing in the wind
Eastern shrines dedicated to
a sigh, a smile, a stranger
half-written confessions shrivelling under the sunlight
i remember passing over to be remembered, but slipping on uncommon ground
a flickering absence


  1. You know, you have a way with words. I mean like this was really good! Do you write poems or something?

  2. Thanks so much for your comment!

    I love writing and I love words. What I try to do is take a feeling and resuscitate it through words by turning it to an image or images.
    Once upon a time, I had always wanted to be a poet, perhaps one day in the future I'll take it up again.