Regarde, il est là, je le vois. Je sais que ce n’est pas que moi. Il est grand et rose; il est là. O, comment ne le vois-tu pas? Pourquoi tu n’oses pas le dire?
Lie to me; you always do. Time to tell me lies anew. Whisper that you want me here; Tell me you’ll be true. Hold my head to your beating heart…
The scent of wild garlic is heavy… Its flowers climb the bank. A sea of white ocean spray, Or a blanket of snow. The wild garlic fills my head
I tried to write a poem. About what you did. About how you made me feel. About how I feel now. But poems are made of words.
They ask me why I mourn; If it’s love, or you, that’s dead. But you were always dead inside, Whilst love was born instead. And love alone endures,
The harsh cry of the gulls pierces… They circle overhead like carrion… You are warm, though still, beside… But no heart beats inside you. Empty, dead. They sense it; I kno…
I lit a candle for you today; It flickered in the gloom. I watched for a while as it danced… Lighting up the room. I locked you in that flickering li…
When the silent stars that saw you… Fall into the sea, When the lazy waves that watched a… Leave them on the shore, When the jealous gulls that screec…
These are the things I can never… The things I must carry alone. They’re things I whisper in secre… For they never must be known. The first is that I hate you,
The lazy river winds around The centre of an ancient town, Where men and women oft are gowned… Where hourly the bells resound. And he stands in the square.
The lovers walk on hand in hand, Their fingers intertwined. Not a care in the world have they, Whilst love looks on behind. They cross the bridge that summer…
Were I someday to catch a rainbow… And weave its colours just like th… Then yours 'twould be to gaze on,… This tapestry beneath your feet I… Or else, could I but steal a silv…
