My life is like a lychee – majestic and evergreen, a delicate flower turned to hanging globules of translucent flesh that wait your suckling a sweet rose sorbet.
My delicate skin, loosened by a mere glance, excited bud to blossom in hopeful intoxication,
Lay, broken fresh and longing, before you - a soul offering of sweet [...]
On crumpled pages a dying memory
By my unmade bed inked poems unsatisfied
a sadistic kookaburra inflicts me with distant stabs of loneliness
recalling gentle whispers camouflaged and unspoken
future visions.
The silence of an empty room,
alone,
is remorseful.
of fallen petals
