love – THE LONELY WHITE WOLF

in moonstones and opals

November 2, 2025

An aura of moonstone,

a ghostly pale gleam,

Her eyes like opals,

lost in a silent dream.

Luna skies are saying,

with stories untold,

And starry constellations,

like legends of old.

Coral reefs shimmer,

in heavens so vast,

A jasmine perfume,

from a sorrowful past.

A halo of white,

in the silvery air,

Shimmery waters,

reflecting despair.

Beneath the celestial night,

shadows creep slow,

Where remnants of heartache

forever will flow.

A haunting reminder,

of love turned to dust,

In moonstone and opals,

And all turned to dust

and have wine in the heat,
i remember last night’s dream.
i feel an erudite wellbeing in
the language of salt and kiss.
how gently i smeared it on my body!
what love iodine i loved with him.
i still have it, penetrated,
alone from me, perfect,
made for arms and my mouth.
with the heat, alone, my womb,
more faithful than my heart,
remembers him and desires him.
the sweet wind awakens in my
groin, its touch, its aroma,
its innumerable love.

at last

June 27, 2025

he came, at last, to my hope.
around his eyes, brief, infinite,
knowing nothing.
it is agile and clean like the
tender wind of the early morning,
cheerful and soft and deep as
grass under water.
he gets sad sometimes
with that mural sadness
that makes quick idols on his face
and draws worried ghosts.

i think it’s like a little girl
asking an old lady things,
like a giddy donkey
entering a city,
full of straw.
he also has a mature woman
who suddenly frightens his gaze
and moves inside him and
bites his insides with tears.

my backpack

June 6, 2025

𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙.
𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎
𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢,
𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛.
𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍.

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢
𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍.
𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍.

𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛.
𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛.

i filled it with flowers

May 21, 2025

they left two large holes
deep and dark
like a well in the forest

and i started to drown
at first
and lost myself and
who i was
the parts of me that were them

until i saw the flowers
and filled the holes
with shells from the ocean
that sparkled

BROKEN PALACES

February 3, 2024

i walk towards broken palaces

like ivory towers

in the distance, castles covering the falling stars

that cascade onto crumbling sand dunes.

my heart it shatters like glass

but that doesn’t stop me from

running so fast towards you –

away from you

and into the dark forest where it is always

night but no moonlight

shines, only the illumination of

my soul that throws a glow

of enchanted curiosity.

what was it that led me here?

what was the spark that ignited

the fires? as the clouds gathered

overhead and turned silver

like swans.

what electricity travels through me

and who is even writing now?

if i stop the magic stops;

like water not flowing, rivers not running

and i know i’ll never stand still,

like a shark constantly swimming

to avoid dying,

and all the king’s horses,

and all the kings men,

could never put me back

together again.

and when it rains i cry

and it cries when i reign.

but i am no queen, like a pauper

i am

begging outside these stone walls that we built

pleading for your time

and your mercy.

CORA AND THE CROW

December 21, 2023

what bird is this

that comes to me

so late at night

and speaks sweetly

bringing word

of places unknown

with tales of forests

overgrown

of running rivers

never dry

of star filled nights

that shine and thrive

it whispers to me

where i reside

a dank, dark well

amidst the tides

for i know no sunrise

or blue moon that shines

my world is darkness

and endless night

poem 2.1

July 3, 2023

a billion to one
we travel through billions of molecules everyday
that gather on either side of us,
and sometimes it is hard
to see the beauty through the endlessly mundane.
flowers floating in sewage water.
it’s about looking at the road
from a different perspective.
there is a reason that the path you chose
is less traveled.
it’s dirty and difficult and confusing.
anyone can be content,
even happy,
if you choose to seek adventure.
in every person there is a hero;
in every task there is a quest.
it’s a billion to one
that you’re even here.
what are the chances of your mother
meeting you father?
what were the odds
that they would fall in love?
we are all artists
waiting to paint.

A poem I wrote about being treated like trash by a guy

August 6, 2022

like a brand new ink cartridge

you pushed me into your pen

and drew with me

such beautiful lines

and I caressed your pages

with mine.

you used me up,

but not completely,

my colour was never enough.

you wanted more

and yanked me out

without a glance

discarded me on the floor.

poem #30

June 6, 2021

bookstore

i look forward to that day
when i bump into you
in a coffee shop or bookstore
and not absorb a drop
of that tiresome anxiety.
the ongoing lament;
another existential crisis.
when the words you say
sound like nails down
a schoolroom chalkboard
and not a chorus of angels singing.
the numerous meals i cooked
were not enough to make me
the centre of your universe.
instead i was a planet
in a vast solar system
that revolved around you.
even as my life shattered,
i finally felt i was coming up for air.

THE LONELY WHITE WOLF

my secret notebook

Tag: love