If Your Lips Could Speak “I’m so drunk” you said loosely from behind the partially closed door. I laughed, but in reality, I was quite drunk myself. You had chosen the very middle cubicle, the other four doors, two at either side of you, were wide open, and empty. We were completely alone. I was… Continue reading If Your Lips Could Speak
Changing Seasons In a city where every day is a miserable December evening she makes me feel like July.She does to me what summer does to trees dresses my branches in life and colour, andholds my proud roots firmly into the ground. She’s the hot chocolate to my crisp autumn morning, our fingers entwined inside… Continue reading Changing Seasons
Memory Box Some of my earliest memories are memories with you,how you would bring me along to pick up Rita from school.I remember how it would take my whole fist just to holdon to one of your fingers, your hands were that big. When I was six years old I went on a school trip… Continue reading Memory Box
A shot of tequila You are the shot of tequila thatI know I will regret tomorrow but still, recklessly I throw salt onto my wounded soul pour you down my throat, into my bloodstream, and take your lips in mine, as if my life depends on it. As if they are a slice of lemon.