Sunday, 31 January 2016


I saw my future gasping for air
Screaming silently 
Mouth wide open
A hundred teeth
Five hundred eyes
I ran to the ocean
With the shadow of a woman
Left erasing herself 
Replacing every syllable with 'sorry'
Who hated flowers 
But kept some by her bed
Met the man who painted them on a wall
Wilted, and never looked again
Shrunken as the man of Sundays
Heading to a church to kneel
Shrunken as a song losing bitrate
Shrunken as a wide angle sepia tinted jpeg file compressed into a floppy drive
"You're better at reading,
Not being read," said another.
I saw the gifts 
Sent to me in pairs 
In twos and threes
Then a rain
My wretched mind floods
Then trickles to drops again.
I saw days turn to hours
and life turn to numbers
In pairs of three
We drank the ocean dry.

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