Monday 9 January 2012

We had a conversation late into the cold night. On her tired face, child and woman battled.She was trying her best not to give in to the lure of sleep. Sleep, the nemesis of will, gave you no choice. Nevertheless she kept a smile behind for me, like Hansel's trail of bread crumbs. But as sleep dragged her along I saw the smile slowly retreat like falling grains of an hour glass,like an ebbing tide, like a rogue tip of thread unravelling the weave.

Tuesday 3 January 2012

Your eye twitches on a remembered word. It sends ripples across your forehead. There sail the unbound thoughts,better-finished sentences. The surging rhythm of breathing. You stand so deceptively still. Yet they bustle on your demeanour, these signs of me.
It taints the growl of thunder clouds.The desired dye of the unknown, of deep wells and secrets of kohl lined eyes. Black is the trembling curtain before dreams waft in.