A lover, A writer and an indecent adult. art imitating life. a walk through the life of a young woman in Melbourne, Australia.
The life we share, and everything that we will share is ours only. Shared between us only. each day is ours, each night and each morning.
Every season and every sunset, every star and every storm. It is ours and we share it.
When this life ends, there will be another. I found you in this one, and I will in the next.
your lips are mine forever
and I will do to them what the river does to it’s bank.
Let the daylight pass
be another’s bliss
for tender is the night
and tender is your kiss
midnight embers, fatal depart
hidden within a tower
rendezvous, exchange in heart
this is the waltz of the flower
Unwilled and unchanging was the folly of adolescence. Each individual succumbed to its predictable pattern, yet no know decipher it until they were left in it’s wake, burned and aged.
Lucky enough to have loved in adolescences’ tight grip and to enjoy the rose coloured world even it if ephemeral. The world was different with your presence and together, a world of our own. Created in love’s tender image, always fond in my memory.
Face to face with you now, maturity stricken and beaten down by adulthood, the world of our past lives, only now, a fleeting reality. Played on loop and kept alive by the endless possibilities of Divine Providence it is suspended in another present, unknown to us.
I will look at you with admiration, for to have shared this with you will always be an honour. This will be the only eternity we will know because it is the only thing we can both be sure of.
On this rainy night, slowly descending into the earth I play the same waltz over and over. My hands bled from the strings and my heart from the ache. Each note a token of my affection I send to your ears. Hear my song tonight, all night and the next. Every single night forever more until this waltz is the language we share and the only words speak are poems from the romantics.
A Folie à deux.
Fresh water for the vase
to place the flowers in.
The red roses, you know I love.
Sat on the windowsill faced toward the sun.
I say ‘you really didn’t have to’
You smile and say ‘of course I did’
Placing a kiss on my lips.
They are still there, on my windowsill.
Withering away.
You are not here to replace them.
I watch each day as a leaf or a petal drops.
Until one day, it is just stems, and the memory of your kiss.
You look at me with eyes that eat into my soul,
eyes that I cannot turn away from.
I want to sink into them and drink your thoughts.
Float away on your dreams and hum nightmares away.
I feed on your voice and lust for your skin,
how did I survive before?
for your voice is my water
and your presence, my air.
I will follow you
to each corner of the earth,
sing you to sleep,
and wake you each morning.
My music, my sonnet, my fire, my soul
how did I survive before?
come to me, in daylight
when the sun is the highest in the sky
bring me your smile
let me watch you then
come to me, at dusk
when the sky turns purple
bring me your arms
keep me warm as night comes
come to me, in the dead of night
when the stars are the only light
bring me your voice
talk to me as we drift to sleep
stay with me, when the daylight breaks
as the day begins
start it with me
and stay with me, forever more
Your kisses can take me away, someplace else
another dimension, only we know.
Your eyes usher me in, piercing my soul
looking away would only hurt me more
Tell me how you light the darkness up,
and how you bring flames underwater.
How does the winter seem like springtime?
and rain seem like sunlight?
Dark wood burning
and the smell of candles
Deserted streets
and the break of dusk.
I see you in the most delicate things.
When it is mundane
you are there to make it,
extraordinary.
A Gentle Glance At The Gruesome 