To Find You.


Farther than the
infinite bounds
Of our universe,
a plea, a grasp.
A walk through
the land between
You and I.
I feel parched
Here, the sun
has squeezes out
From me the
nectar of courage.
I retreat, head
cast down, and
In the glint of sand
so soft and fluid,
An invitation: stay.
But I’ve been here
So long. The story
is old. I want to
Shake it off now,
leave its formidable
Shell here to dry
in the mid-morning
Heat. The mirage,
too, tempts me with
Her guileless beauty,
for having what I
Could never claim
for myself.
I do want the very
edges of our known
Worlds. Don’t we all?
Where have I been
looking? You have
been seeing me this
whole time. I am
coming to find you. – TS

What Remains of Us.


Looking ahead
to where the field
is a freeze-frame
after the fire,
the sun persists
in the golden season
of the dried and crackling.
For now, I don’t
see past the
browned pastures
and the desert
I imagine
that lies beyond
for its lack of
what lives and
lives on.
But in my dreams,
where colours always matter,
the sun is rounding
the bend, gleaming amber,
being where it’s
always been,
for what of us
remains. – TS