#11 lines

Wide eyed but lashes tremble when wind rumbles in an instant.

Who are you feels more like a conclusion than a question

Not I my heart forcefully shrieks

Before it shrinks on the iron chair of confession

And becomes a picture of trampled melancholic roses.

This fragility is terrifying

Like the future of an abandoned gold ornament

Meant to gleam with a treasure trove of precious moments,

Able bodied not just from the outside

my heart detonates like old volcanoes.

Is this what I am now, what I feel, how I deal?

Not I, who sinks into old routines,

who stretches on the rack like a rubber band, only to snap back.

I grow like sunflowers and face towards the light,

filled with pleasant emotion and all that brings delight.

I shine like silver but melt like gold,

Fall into the arms of someone I yearn to hold.

Open up my chest to untangle my knotted ribs,

They won’t tell you fairytales

of how girls can be dangerous and still win.

They will only tell you stories

where girls are sweet and kind

and reject all sin.

I guess to them

it’s a terrifying thought,

a red riding hood

who knew exactly

what she was doing

when she invited the wild in.

Gouache on paper / 30 x 42 cm / Briat 2000

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I wish i was like the pomegranate

separate segments making a whole

perfumed piquant packages

connected in labrynthine compartments

like the devils own filing cabinet

imagineary fractals spiralling deep

as an ammonites shell

mazes it's way to the centres spell

but in reality i am a simple man

i give love not over reaction