The morning shade

belongs to no one.

The knife, the bluebird,

the blood as it runs

through the veins

to the heart beat,

living and dying.


In the meantime,

a vicious mind

devours freedom

on the pink sand.


Lost in time and lost

in invention, vengeful angels

taunt the body

dancing in the water

beneath the golden rays.


Walking through the lonely crowds,

time goes painfully fast and slow.

Silence fills the evening train while

tangerine lights aflame in the distance.


The ceiling is an ocean

of colours my eyes


latch onto.

There are too many faces

and too many voices

calling me

back to the ordinary;

the buzzing and the misery.