Found my first love holding hands walking home from school – grade one. Father’s grip crushed, controlled, warned against disobedience, held on until compliance was
The past clings, like moss, nurtured by tears unshed, like sap untapped, warps minds, sense of self, craves perceptional shift – a vernal appreciation for
Sensing foulness of mood they slither out from dark places – whirling wisps of putrid insinuation Clever they are, and almost imperceptible but I am
“Why do we have to learn about something that doesn’t effect us?” the small, blonde student asked me. “I mean, it was ages ago, and
Was it real, or a dream? Flash of brown eyes.. that smile – just for him – inviting… Consumed was he raced everyday to that
A new house promises evokes dreams we share a vision – invite colour, keep it light, banish the old. So we shop, measure, consult, order.