Girl, your silver-tipped prose  was going to haemorrhage me   word circus turned me to clown    In octagon of mirrors in the gallery cafe  where lipstick palimpsest on coffee cups  colour rouge all the shades of desire,  I viewed her nipples from eight different angles  through the ‘God?’ emblazoned on her thin t-shirt,   reflected to crack’d promises  who dared walk on broken ice?    China...

Not good with surprisesYet here you areYou approached timidly at firstThen the nervousness showedWhat was more  endearingyour approach or the executionI was not looking in your directionYou made my head turnYou made my mind stay on younew questions and...

Memory;It’s what makes me human;Sometimes with thornsBut it is the only way,To touch the moistureOf the human form;

in your dark days I want to be the lightsmiling sunshine and parting the shadowsit is in me to need but I long to give to youcherished desire you are beautifulpassion's rebellion to serve youon my knees to please...