Poem // The Blot

I wish the blot was in me and not in my friend, but life is what it is, unfair and mean to the kindest person I’ve ever seen. Where humans are concerned life is best suited to liars and haters, or so it seems, with so many lying and hating and winning with that. It’s … Read morePoem // The Blot

Poem // He Stroked His Mother’s Hair

He stroked his mother’s hair as she lay on the bed, lost in a fiction, sensate world of danger, phobias and betrayals. She calmed and then he said, for all the love you gave to me, I give it back to you in full but my debt to you can never be repaid for you … Read morePoem // He Stroked His Mother’s Hair

Poem // Perfectly Imperfect

When first he set eyes upon you, you were perfect; a warm light, drawing him inside, no moth to a flame analogy – for no one could ever be destroyed by entering the citadel of you, determinedly prising a lock open, a way into your heart, though fires rage there, it is true, deep below … Read morePoem // Perfectly Imperfect

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