Wandering nightly through the cobbled pavements of the city of dreaming spires,I could not help but notice the darkening shade of sandstone under the...
"A worm has beaten me to the hole I’m digging;
when I pull apart the soil, I find
a slender punctuation mark in the mud.
Its pink body threads through the dark clay."
"Then there is a sudden pull – my loose thoughts spill over the pebbly surface of the page. Images crashing and breaking against sobering stillness, propelling seafoam into the air, rumpling the Edenic crispness of the page."
"The photographs on the walls show people years ago in the same spot.
Did they feel the same, love the same, breathe the same.
It seems impossible that they did, even more so that they did not."
"And I sat with my back to the skies
as I mouthed out a prayer to the winds
and imagined them ghosts; for where I sat, half-anaesthetised,
four children had used to sit"
People often say that progress,
is not always linear.
and p r o g r e s s,
sometimes doesn't always look like 2,000 words* (including citations) on a Microsoft Word document"