I arrive. In the depth of an ocean they come closer their pearls spill on my face their neck covers me The smell I am reminded of air. I am a distortion of nature. I move around the solids. I look for cracks I sleep. …cracks to fill, but hard…

Crushed Lips. Colour me in every eye. I meet your question. My metal fingers melt into the cracks of your palm. Connecting the air of the skin, to the flesh, to the bones, and what fills the space in between. What exists in this vivid, yet completely still moment is…

UNMAKING BEDS I USED TO SLEEP IN REMOVING THE SAFETY BLANKET LETTING AIR IN UNDER MY SKIN FORGETTING NIGHTMARES CREATING DREAMS MANIFESTING A NEW REALITY ?

Not a home, per say but a pyre on which to cast ones self and be immolated.

… staying … with myself and with all of you   I can Be with ease And with so much more   … 8; …

An Anti-heroin with a thousand faces, weaving tales like mist over the open sea. As the falling angel whispers to open the gates to the cold, dead and flaming goal at the end of spiral of violence. Under the darkened moon, she sharpens care and connection. She ties you up,…

Zrak can be scattered and warm But it can also concentrate into air point With precision and intensity Like a laser

Went to the sea last night, first act after landing, And came to the water’s edge (alone and without seeing, across the wide berth of the shore), stumbling upon it nearly with the strips of washed-up tang And felt the sting of very cold water swirling at my ankles and…

If I were to speak of my love, I would return to the sweet elderflower brushing my nose tip in the summer, and to kiss-stains of pollen If I were to speak — stop — listen : do you hear how the cold salt water beckons us to turn back,…

Can we create a more poetic, connected and caring world, without being immersed in nature, in daylight, positive emotions, deep feelings of connection, and ethical imagination on how to serve and create a better world, for the emergence of a ‘new normal’? Is there a place or need for shutting…