Summer Heat

I need some opinions on this one. Is it complete or does it have a long way to go? Please comment below with any thoughts. Thank you kindly.


I could tickle the shade

on a day like today,

musky odour (I admit)

emitting from my “delicate” temple

whose flustered

along with my will

to make happy with


who step lightly and grin

while I drip

and drop

and drag myself onward

through what seems like concrete Sahara


I have forgotten myself many times

mostly on purpose

I have made days go by without saying hello to

a mirror

and have been even better

at making nights disappear

suffocating myself under blankets

the easiest place to be

where words are muffled

and sounds elude me.



The following text is a snippet from a short story of mine which continues to be a work in progress.

I could tell it was storming, but not for the sound of thunder or rain. The window frame was plastered so well that I could hear no sounds from the outside, but I could see the drops falling and the trees whipping wildly in the wind. Sparse flashes of light illuminated the dark room and made Caroline visible. She seemed so much smaller underneath the covers, and I didn’t think there was anything that could make her petite frame look any frailer than it already did.

When insomnia took me, as it so often did, I sat on the end of Caroline’s bed and rubbed her legs. So far, she hadn’t been woken by this, but I swear I could hear her sigh when I started massaging. When the snoring came, I knew she had drifted off properly and I could stop rubbing her little legs. Caroline would fight with anyone who pointed out her. No way did she snore. Snoring was for boys and old grandpas with bad breath and white hair.



I couldn’t help but think about the look Caroline gave me earlier, when I bent over to kiss her sweet little forehead. Her eyes were wide, black and piercing, like eagle eyes that began to well up with tears. She smelled of jasmine and roses and cool summer nights, a mixture of scents that seemed to stick on her body and never leave.




While she lay in bed, she felt the breeze rush in from the open window. The curtains danced along with every gust and whip the wind took. What pleasure the night had brought her. What utter content it was to have the light of the moon hover outside, as she lay cloaked in sheets, sinking into cushion and feathers. Every inhale took her deeper under the covers, every exhale was a cuddle and a relief. The chirping crickets sang to her, or were a steady beat, keeping with the rhythm of her breath. If she could stay this way forever, she would.



Marble Head

I would take

this big head of mine

and shrink it to the size of a glass marble

if I could,

and not even think twice

if it were to roll away

off the side of a cliff

and shatter,

at least then my head could

be of some use

the scattered fragments

could reflect the sun

create sparkling flicks of twinkle,

or cut someone.


Skipping Rocks

I would skip


with my feet plunged into moss

curl my toes underneath mud

grip myself

turning a stone over in my hand

weighing it with every rotation

to make sure it wouldn’t just


to the bottom of the brook

though if it did

it would not be lonely

because there are plenty of others

who have


to the


and nestled themselves

even after they’ve skidded the rapids.