you shifted
with the axis of the night
giving up flesh
for the heartbeat
of a much bigger sky
Category: Sequences
The Mirror Line
A pause between dreams
unsent
Jagged lines, straight intent.
Feet apart,
worlds away.
In search of stillness,
recollections:
Stepping up—
a minimalist approach,
with no clear beginning,
no ultimate end,
where certainty and confusion
trade places.
Passing and glassing.
The mirror line.
I love what pulls me away
and brings me back altered—
films, series, a stranger
stepping briefly into my life.
I call it childish.
I keep wanting.
Everything looks strong from the outside.
But what excites me
loosens the knot,
returns me to the self I forget.
Images were never escape.
They were love.
Cinema, television, music.
It isn’t the year that matters.
It’s the heat.
The recognition.
A painting in shadow.
A movie seen too late
and always known.
The Bird Cemetery
Once, I gave a friend a painting, and she cried.
That was the whole story.
Behind my house, a bird cemetery is slowly growing.
It feels prophetic somehow, as if forgiveness could come easily,
light as a wing.
Rooms that Never Fit
Everywhere we went, the world kept asking who we were.
Some rooms never fit,
no matter how small you make yourself.
And still,
I knew it long before you said the words.
One of us had already left.
We kept dreaming,
just never toward each other.
The morning arrived but the daylight never came.
For a moment I understood something about the world—then it disappeared.
Woken by noises on the roof, I looked out across the back garden, down the street towards the seafront.
Urban wildlife.
I went back to bed.
No longer separate,
but part of everything that moves.
A whole world passes between
that day and today.
Because sometimes belonging
is a story you grow back into
only after leaving.
And what we find
is not the place we left,
but the one we carried-
quietly,
the whole way back.