Image Credit: Pexels- Elijah O’Donnell We’re stood in a group, My friend and I. Along with her boyfriend for the night, Jake. And some other guy. As Jake lights his cigarette, A woman walks by. She has pink hair and piercings, Wearing a tank that reads, “the patriarchy must die”. Jake scoffs and exhales, As…

Image Source: Unsplash- Luke Schlanderer The piano has every potential to create masterpieces To summon tears or slow dances To some, this is recognized To the artist, this is a prized possession And cared for as such The piano in his house will only ever receive soft and gentle touches Dusted daily Yet, Yet in…

Tea, in a pot, served in a china cup on a little saucer.  Tea with the bag still in,  It’s cold, but it’s comfortingly so.  There’s bread that’s stale,  It’s dusty, And I’d like to read a newspaper.  It’s a day for sitting crossed-legged on the floor,  It’s always a day to sit crossed-legged on…

Orange peels. Cinnamon sticks,  season of the witch.  Mary Jane’s and socks with frills,  there’s bows and scarves, and I think pip mentioned bread.  Or berries. The air makes me think of ink pens,  the kind that smudge on the page and leave reminders on your hands all day long.  That’s not a summer pen,…

She is the Darling Doe, Made flesh with the curves of a woman, A love letter to the meadows her mother roams. The windows to her soul dance with a marriage of honey and chocolate, As if the spirit of innocence from the terrified doe was captured on the face of a woman. Mercury does…