Late at night,

When darkness drifts around me,

my mind wanders and

I wonder what you think,

When you think of me

Does your heart pound, nervously,

in your chest?

When we’re falling asleep

I put my hand on your heart, or

My head on your neck, just

To feel your pulse, just

To see if it’s racing

In time with my own

Sometimes it is

and it is in those moments that

I’ll pull you into me

Around me

Covering myself with your chest

your thighs,

your sex,

I want to press against you

to feel held

to feel loved

You rest your hand on my hip

Gently, tentatively

Afraid of me

or yourself

I cannot tell

A battle rages inside of you

I can feel it in your movements

You shift away from me,

then towards me

Until it seems there is only you,

and me,

and your hand,

and my hip

Until my breathing becomes even

and I settle against you

and you ease yourself into me

As we fall,





Letter to a Would-Be Lover:

I don’t like the way you affect me

the way I let you affect me
You’ve slipped inside me somehow

and I don’t know where you are
So I don’t know how to get you out

but you’re in here
Fucking with me

And I need you to stop.


“Breathe.” She said,
And I remembered what it felt like to be alive.

“Breathe.” She said,
And I remembered breath is needed to sustain life,
So long I had been dwelling in the emptiness
Which hangs between life and death
Not wanting to live, but not ready to die
Devoid of wanting, empty of passion
The nothing space, visited only
By sadness and fear

“Breathe.” She said,
And I filled my lungs with air,
Felt my soul rush back into this body


Sleep With Me

Sleep with me,
Crawl into my bed
Share my pillow
Let me hold you
Cradle you to my breast
Stroke your hair,
As tension melts from
Your form.
Allow me to whisper
Truths of your soul’s
Beauty into your ear
As your eyes drift shut,
As your breathing
Becomes even,
As sleep takes you in.


I am happy today. Why you ask? Because I held a woman in my arms last night. I held her close and we let our feet be carried by music pulsing through our bodies. My mouth grazed skin darker than my own; dark and warm and smooth like coffee on a bright summers’ morning. She tasted of fire and flesh and freedom. I wrapped her in my arms and felt whole again. I felt like a woman again. I found something of myself that I’d forgotten I’d lost – my passion.


I look up at the night sky and
She is the first thing to pop into my head,
I think the same cliche thing which all lovers think
Is she looking at the same stars thinking of me ?
No,  probably not. 
She’s probably at home, tucked sweetly in her bed,
With me far from her thoughts.
Far, distant and fading, steadily away.


Explain to me, oh Darkness of night

How this Mist serves as my muse,

Does it serve me, or do I serve it

Or is it something far more confused?

Explain to me, oh Darkness of night

How this Mist has become my muse

Particles land and dance on my skin,

Leaving me feeling amused.

Explain to me, oh Darkness of night

How this Mist has become my lover

I write and I sit and I smoke cigarettes,

Finding I am utterly consumed.

Explain to me, oh Darkness of night

How this Mist has become my muse

Do I serve it, or does it serve me,

Or is it something  far more confused?