I thought I saw you in a window. You were at your favourite café, drinking coffee with your hair in a bun. You had on your favourite sweater, and that

Her eyes run deeper than obsidian. A smooth jet black, like marble on the floor of a palace. They call to you; they beckon. They offer you the chance to

I'm in love with you. In love with the way you talk, the way you laugh, the way the sunlight catches your hair. In love with the way you curl

I started out as a young poet Back then my poems were bright and happy and numerous. But I was in love, what more can I say? I wrote poems

Pour me a drink and I'll tell you a lie. Now then, what would you like to hear? I could tell you there's purpose and good in the world, But