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Breeze as an Afterthought

When Love Breezes on by.

Torrid breeze

need to sneeze

spring came around

allergy bound

stuffing noses, sensitive eyes

plucking petals makes me cry.

Within a sickly state

met a special someone on a date

we spent nights and days

in a wanton haze

blurry and hot

in loving thought.

We felt immortal, too great

to let the spark die, wait

so we carved our joy

happiness, tacit cloy

in our favourite bench

we spent days clenched

together

in spite of disgusting weather.

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Queen Day

Personified Flower Fit for A Queen

(queen of the people)

 

Queen of the damned

baleful, dingy

first name Anne

young and stingy.

Stoic to her thoughts

elated for her desires

has trudged and fought

her share of liars.

Attended many weddings

gawked from the sides

cuddled in different bedding

never a bride.

Spry when she speaks

guides the lost

pities the freaks

never been crossed.

Comfortable on her throne

she’s merry

delves in the unknown

feasting on her red berries.

 

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Tales from the Inferno

(The Inferno has a natural grainy photo filter that blurs all pictures. It’s part of the curse.)

Welcome to the Inferno!

From the outside, working at an art gallery seemed chill, but this art gallery, The Inferno, was baleful. Walls oozed angst and ire, asphyxiating hope from ever reaching inside. Physically the gallery was an architects’ masterpiece, a piece of history melded with a contemporary vision. Decades ago it was a brewing factory at the brim with beer, but re-purposed to hold works of art. Now to the average guest that’s all it seems, but when one listens closely, a piercing scream will bring about an unrelenting trepidation that will linger until the grave.

Continue reading Tales from the Inferno

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Wanton Summer: Sorry I Miss You

Summer without another.

 

A torrid summer

sweltering with fatigue

filled with wonder

to believe.

Met a quaint guy

smooth and lean

had affable eyes

wore acid wash jeans.

Knew he wasn’t from here

never bothered to ask

shared his heady beer

from his novelty flask.

Often terse

but spoke with vigour

Continue reading Wanton Summer: Sorry I Miss You