Category Archives: Romance
Our song
I step through the door, from the staircase onto the roof. It’s the end of the movie. I’m surrounded by the city lights, but it’s still dark. The camera pans around me. Tides by The XX starts playing. I have
Our song
I step through the door, from the staircase onto the roof. It’s the end of the movie. I’m surrounded by the city lights, but it’s still dark. The camera pans around me. Tides by The XX starts playing. I have
Body of fiction
The sunlight on your body is like the Circular glow of the bedside lamp on Page 81. The silk duvet is your dust Jacket. The only one that I’ve ever Kept on. Your vertebrae constitute The image that’s on the book’s
Body of fiction
The sunlight on your body is like the Circular glow of the bedside lamp on Page 81. The silk duvet is your dust Jacket. The only one that I’ve ever Kept on. Your vertebrae constitute The image that’s on the book’s
My tomorrow (part 2)
She gets up and walks towards the window. She grabs her scarf from the chair and drapes it around herself. The way the morning light reflects off of her naked body is poetic. I follow her to the window, and I
My tomorrow (part 2)
She gets up and walks towards the window. She grabs her scarf from the chair and drapes it around herself. The way the morning light reflects off of her naked body is poetic. I follow her to the window, and I
Love = (You x Me)^2
I think that you can define love. You can define it by not defining it. You just describe everything that’s linked to it. Love is that person whom you want to wake up to. The one you lie next to
Love = (You x Me)^2
I think that you can define love. You can define it by not defining it. You just describe everything that’s linked to it. Love is that person whom you want to wake up to. The one you lie next to
The end of the world
I should have kissed you Right then and there I should have pulled you back As we ran through the rain I should have pulled you back Paused Stepped towards you and kissed you Right then and there In the
The end of the world
I should have kissed you Right then and there I should have pulled you back As we ran through the rain I should have pulled you back Paused Stepped towards you and kissed you Right then and there In the
What’s the rush? What’s the rush, well…
You know it’s love when you can see a future with them. You just get that tingly feeling. And goddamn if you aren’t mapping out that future right now; what you want to do next week. What you want to
What’s the rush? What’s the rush, well…
You know it’s love when you can see a future with them. You just get that tingly feeling. And goddamn if you aren’t mapping out that future right now; what you want to do next week. What you want to
4×6 or A4?
A picture is worth a thousand words. I’d rather have the pages. All folded up and carried around in my wallet. The wrinkles and creases don’t distort the beauty of what’s written, they add to it. You can feel the
4×6 or A4?
A picture is worth a thousand words. I’d rather have the pages. All folded up and carried around in my wallet. The wrinkles and creases don’t distort the beauty of what’s written, they add to it. You can feel the
A sketch with words
I see the guys that talk to you And I see the ones that you talk to I don’t think you see me I’m the one in the back with his head in his Moleskine We’ll say that I’m sketching
A sketch with words
I see the guys that talk to you And I see the ones that you talk to I don’t think you see me I’m the one in the back with his head in his Moleskine We’ll say that I’m sketching
Your body is a wonderland
The way you arch your back is As beautiful as the tattered spine of my favorite book The curve of your lips Are the dog-eared pages that I keep going back to Your scars and stretch marks Are the highlighted
Your body is a wonderland
The way you arch your back is As beautiful as the tattered spine of my favorite book The curve of your lips Are the dog-eared pages that I keep going back to Your scars and stretch marks Are the highlighted
If you cannot be a poet, then be a poem
Her fingers melt between mine She turns my hands over Reading my palms, she writes my future She says that I could write amazing things I close my eyes Her fingers trace the burns on my arms As the burn
If you cannot be a poet, then be a poem
Her fingers melt between mine She turns my hands over Reading my palms, she writes my future She says that I could write amazing things I close my eyes Her fingers trace the burns on my arms As the burn
LITTLE TALKS 