Mosaic

Mosaic

I killed her again.
Sacrificed her to the mystery.
She ate the sun-
burned to ash on the pyre.
Next morning, she rose with me
like some godforsaken phoenix.

Season of the Witch

Season of the Witch

Autumn, you return 
like a lover
thought lost to my dreams.
A cool hand on my forehead.

Stillness

Stillness

I breathe in.
Suffused with light, full with emptiness.
In the stillness at the centre,
fragments of a long-forgotten dream.

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