The End Of Days...
... should have been 70 AD/CE, remember?
Or no, sorry, finger error, it was supposed to be 380.
Or no, no, no! It is going to be exactly 24 September 20XX, after
Stuck On You
Steam rises from my cupped hands.
Sickle Moon dances on my black rooibos tea.
Dirty, orange City Night Sky.
Trying not to blink. What am I looking at?
To All The Girls
He enters a black forest.
Perhaps because he tried to read Freud.
Narrow path. Some sort of enchantment.
Is he flying or falling?
A Red Heart Rises
over a suburban garden.
She lays a landscape A4 sheet in front of me.
For you, Daddy.
Treading On The Tail Of A Tiger
is a bit like tiptoeing
on the toes of a tyrannosaurus.
I wish I could choose