Typed Music


I suppose these are just little pieces of me, wrapped up in words.

The forgotten melodies of my mind.


28. Beauty

Is beautiful, when worn by you;
Molten amber skudding your spine
Especially in the light -
Your ponytail is a sunrise of colours.
Are beautiful, when caught by you;
Like you were sprayed by summer
And left out to dry
Until you were pinpricked brown
With the smell of cut grass and barbeques.
Crooked teeth
Are beautiful when smiled by you;
Tide-stained sea shells between your lips.
They’re fading now,
Tainted by the straight-jacket you call braces.



I know.

I actually wrote something happy.


That's just about miraculous... I mean, it's practically breaking a law of nature; I just need a credible witness (for those of you who are sad enough to get the reference to Hume's philosophy on miracles).



Actually, if you read it the way I do, it's not happy after all...

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