• The Author

    Your face does not yet own a poem.
    I saw it yesterday for just a moment and I know.
    Who are you that nobody has written about you?
    In your walk you own the coming of a storm;... more »

  • The Infant

    Now that you’re with me things have changed,
    even the word ‘here’ is not the same.
    Now I say it more often than I used to –
    I say ‘come here’ and I kiss you,... more »

  • The Lie

    Dusk passes gently over you,
    wayward woman of my bed, ache of my heart.
    You made me promise that I’d sleep.
    I whispered that I would wait inside you until sunrise,... more »

  • The Scream

    We were naked.
    Rain fell on the window.
    I kissed you here.
    And there.... more »

  • The Search

    In this dark,
    in this light,
    you... more »

  • The Swim

    Early this morning,
    we swam in the sea,
    and drifted, on the hot waves.... more »

  • The Thief

    I have worn you on me like sunshine,
    I have kissed you until my mouth was yours,
    I have smelt your skin in the morning,
    and known everything about the way you sleep.... more »

  • Visitations

    I didn’t need to hear the rain
    or watch the lone swallow flying
    through it like a lost arrow
    to suddenly remember you.... more »

  • Wash

    From the edge of the dark you came,
    cutting through the angry tide with your naked sails.
    In the luscious haze you shone like a lazy star
    and rippled the night out towards my shadows.... more »