Blankets of darkness enclose a chamber of ice, warmth a myth and comfort a distant song untouched, with a price. Every joint has a rolling joint every roll a different role a spark that bonds yet chokes gives life

Coffee Shop

A phone call, a text and another sky tastes the same cup or fields a lie. Butter oozes over toasted sighs a crisp, steamy rumour rises and dies.


The memories are only landscapes painted by another Time slipped through the ring And my yesterdays looked like someone else's tale