About me

Writer, filmmaker, overthinker, music-tinkerer. Co-founder @ Much Much Media

4.3.10

To her name...

The Church bell rings in my ears
As the sun calls us for dinner
Cobbled streets make way
As her breath smokes my sleep


We fall on unclean grass
Unspoken and uncluttered smiles
Tarnished shades wiping off our faces
As angels shed their whites


Sipping our holy wine
In our empty facades
Time halts for its making
Contrite lovers spit out venom


And we toast to it
An act of true obeisance
Closed eyes, smiles on face
Lips together, sunburnt