writer | écrivain | ékwiven
For you,
I’d learn to write love songs in Spanish,
Sonnets in Italian,
Haikus in Portugese.
The kindest disposition,
Warm hands, tender lips.
For you,
I write love notes in the morning,
Dance all evening,
And sing until my voice has gone.
The night is young, this moment’s fleeting,
We roam the city while its sleeping.
For you,
I’ll brave the cold, the rain,
Climb cliffs to sit hand in hand,
Hearts open, love flowing.
(Yours Truly, Photographed by: Tom Pearce)
Watch me tightrope walking,
Far above the great abyss,
One with all and nothingness.
Juggling the knives left in my side for sport,
Sun rising like blood pressure, ’til it’s boiling hot,
Readymade excuses, laid out all for naught.
Come have another gin,
Dance, dance, dance on the edge with me,
Clinging to the last of civility.
can’t stand still,
like streams, rivers, oceans all across our mother earth,
we’re mostly salt, water, and clichés spilled softly over coffee and a scone.
can’t stand still,
can’t be tied to titles, when you crave the time to roam –
all the galleries in the city, in Cologne, Paris, Rome,
couldn’t feed your appétit pour l’art.
just you and your lover,
alone on the open road,
can’t stand still.
Birds take to the skies for safety,
Bliss and strife dance hand in hand,
Yet all of it is hazy,
All I see, is you, here with me.
Ghosts in the Parlor
Wailing through the walls
Calling out lost secrets
Roaming through the halls
i. This city reminds me
Nights I’d come home soul stained with vodka, whiskey, gin
After all-night, kissing the wrong person
Sleeping in to get passed the disappointments
ii. That song reminds me
Open wound of a life
Waking even though my very essence was dying
Everything amounted to nothing, desperate to hold on to something
iii. This place reminds me
Beautiful new memories made
Body/mind a lot less heavy
Time loves those old scars away
Hayden Winston 
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