This is the house of Love, which has no bound nor end.

Dream Tongue

We came all the way past Aasvoelkop,
deep in the red dust to uncover
an old book about Babel, left alone
in the far corner, still somehow calling you
to remember a dream you had
about bound paper lying on a coffee table
and a team of people you were building with
who remained confused about the light
and colour of what was taking shape,
though you - sweet heart - could only see
the beauty of it all as those deep blue eyes
lit up in double remembrance.

I am forever in your debt;
there is no room for doubt.


A lifetime

Of wandering fantasy