Cold Nights

nights wrap
my heart in
Memories of you;
When your love moulded
me on the potter’s wheel,
Your eyes cut amorphous me,
Escaped and dripped into my soul;
Your streets spoke to me as I walked past
Their bends, in words that fell off from your tongue.
Now as the shroud of clouds claw at the moon
And this room is filled with your absence,
While the air folds onto itself,
Empty and without your warmth,
The picture on the shelf
reminds me of your
Touch, nourishing
And soothing
My tired



Drowned in a sea of black,
My mind arid like a desert;
Am I an island? Am I a cloud?
Have I been turned inside out?

I can see through you
Like people see through stone,
I can see you strive
To rearrange the strands of me
Into a picture you can own.

But I have built my own prison,
I have stretched my arms into the sky,
There’s nowhere I come from,
I now unbelong.


Today, I turned myself inside out
To speak to the stranger
who was lurking below the surface.

Today, I let him walk at his pace,
A pace dissonant with the beat of a rushing world.

Today, I let him change his course,
And walk down random paths,
Paths that lay waiting for feet to explore them.

Today, I let the stranger talk
In words that I thought I would not understand,
In words that I thought would not sound right,
In words that I thought I would laugh away.

And yet, as the stranger led me
Through those untouched paths,
And as I heard him speak,
His insanity coloured me,
His words made perfect sense.
With his hand guiding me,
I flew off the edge of routine.