Awaiting a platform announcement | Opening an attachment | Corpses at rest, or | butterflies on leaves | their wings | in periphery | mica and scimitars | Taking five | Stacking Zs | Adding another moment into the long | trail of the moments of | your life | Down in the | hearts of | abstracts and | absolutes | verbs are always working | burrowing and | crumbling | eroding | building back up | Marine | creatures | leaving bio- | luminescent trails | clouds of | signature light | The tides’ | draw their crowds | The cold | alters our love | Appending | a file | something to do with | ginger and rhizomes | Adding another | word | into the long | trail of the words of your life | Going back to | take a last photograph | A glisten of | goosebumps | so you | hesitate | and look up | with no | shelter from | this event | the corpse of your butterfly | grazing on blossom || More shy than me, and less of show | Japanese irises | flowers which always | look more lovely in the rain…

Apparently still | Signalling failure | Delays announced | Tying together | Michaelmas daisies | drowsing in the heat | between the lines | and oil | isles | on old sleepers, and | memories from a | favourite anime | and fragments of God or | some of the threads | that were left behind | after His exit || Nirvana | just to | one side of your head | The connections you make | the person you were | the daisies | so still, the rails | so still with | bearing journeys | in the quiet | sun | a soft, ineffably | tender drone | of insects and dust | such | love | and your heart | sips the light and | keeps beating

 


from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)

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