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Fight the battles
that need to be fought.
Say your piece
without fear of being soft. (more)
One of my favourite memories of that year is of the weekends we spent at your parents' house, shifting shadows around its circular walls through the day. It is where I learnt to love beer. After our morning toast with sprinkles and that strong Dutch coffee with creamy koffiemelk,(more)

You looking at me
like I am made of mirrors
and blue glass.
Me looking at you (more)
You thought that to keep it together,
you needed to keep it within you.
All that time you let the knots tighten at the core,
fray at the edges
unevenly (more)
Your mind is the hardest place

In the jaws of the shark
it's easier,
there is just one thing
to focus on. (more)
The risk is in staying,
not leaving.
In things working out,
not breaking.
In not doing what you always do
and starting afresh (more)
On the days you
breathe deeply enough
and maybe don't use the bright blur of the telly
for self-mollification

you feel your thoughts churn twice as fast (more)
Thoughts come tumbling from their cosy nooks, little ant armies that shake up the happy oblivions. If I give them the time, they will burrow through all the peaks as though they were hollow, made of smoke. As though they are a figment of my mind, never to be(more)
On the eleventh day of spring, I catch a man eyeing the woman walking out of the building. Mini skirt, silk (or so) blouse, slightly furrowed brows. She is moss-framed, dressed to be looked at, and has a feigned sheer of oblivion.
“Oldest BFFs” - a byline and a smile shared by two people who were my BFFs before they were each others'.  

Heat rises
off the salt-blanketed roofs.
Morning snow has brought
December weather.

People are waking up; (more)
I spent ten days speeding down the West Coast on a motorbike uninsured. What I learnt: on the road, it's what's on the outside that counts. In life, it's what's on the inside.

And hey, I didn't fall off the back, but I did fall back in love.
"So, where do you live?"

That dreaded question. I'm homeless, but how do I explain it to you? In the past year, I've lived in four continents, mostly out of suitcases and the nagging feeling that my stay wherever I am at that moment is only temporary. (more)
The thing that struck me at Lucreicio's father's wake today was the giant flower arrangement that wouldn't fit. "Presented by Shangri La", a stencilled ribbon bore. His wife's employers. It held the tallest, most exotic white flowers from around the world; lilies, orchids, unblossomed gladioli in a large arch,(more)
The difference between the friends who have stayed and the friends I have lost finds its bones in the fact that I just don't have to explain myself to some of them.

For the others, I have to dumb down my heres and todays, parochialise the context of(more)