The Marvelous Growing Boy

His bones continue to grow like tropical plants with enormous leaves and great unfolding flowers heavy from the rain.  They push forth through the tips of his fingers and toes like protruding seedlings from the fertile earth. Splitting open skin, his skull swells to the size of a corpse lily, neck peeling into speckled orange …

Ivory Eyes

  My eyes are tired of the constant light filtering through my pupils. Too much light. In my mind of shameless shadows, the animal behind my eye sockets drinks tears I do not wish to cry. My retinas are about to burst from a world without colour, only burning white, and my body may follow …

“Black Roses”

Their pestilent stench permeates the air escaping from my lips, to my lungs’ undoubted relief. Within them sits a bushel of black roses embedded in my bronchia. Burnt heads top their fiery death thrones. Like prehistoric beasts sheltered beneath an ocean of unbearable pressure, light does not reach my body’s forlorn depths. But I groom …

Dreams

A mulberry box is home, outfitted with a satin lining like something designed in a far away time, frills and pearls stitched to the seams. My body is a ghastly white slate on which the worms chew their art, excavating the rare soulless skin. There’s a subtle tapping overhead – it’s the rocks shifting, compounding …

The Eternal Meadow

The waning winter light paints the brevity of the sleepy meadow in a peculiar lilac hue as forget-me-nots doze to recollections of dreams long passed. To the north, guided by a softly undulating down, meanders a brook sweet to a parched palette. And an old-growth wood cradles the remaining perimeter of the secluded meadow in …

Waterworks Of The Other World

Weariness overwhelms me, whispering, cajoling me to surrender the richness of wakefulness and succumb to the remnants of my subconscious. It purrs to me from some electric otherworld damning abstract orphans of cognition. Blindly, they fumble about on the crags between my composition of ragged cells: helplessly captured half-way in irrationality, groping for the physicality …

End Of Days

She cried from the heavens and the downpour swallowed the earth. Her divine weeping commanded shudders through the Himalayas, rifting vast fissures, severing mountain-top lovers. As her tears tore open the sky, asphyxiation strangled the atmosphere: a godly gift of slow and silent goodbyes. And footholds on steady emotions were eviscerated as if all was …