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#052: Mo and the Magician 1

[MO] At what point did the jaw release itself from the face? . [MAGICIAN] At what point did your lies decide to cultivate its own fate?
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#051: flowering
Fervour flowered through a crack of the edifice Like a common weed Sometimes there’s a call for forestry To burst through the seams But if you look below your feet The slabs you walk on week to week That concrete cannot seem to stop Life making itself known, unabashedly.
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#048: remembering winter
like crisp cardamom pods, frankincense and myrrh/gingerbread men, half-bitten grins, mid mirth/the smiles of human strangers all cinnamon sugar, homemade galore/no mega-mall label, no brand store-bought/thirst quenched by all those end of year crackly fire romances/thirst quenched by all those murky muddy ice-glazed pools we jump, splash and dance in/those melt in the middle mud…