and when he listened, it was as if it were a secret. he drew shapes into her side gentle paint strokes lightly. decorating her curves smoothing out his last brush Advertisements
Pretty face found its way back in, burrowed under the barb wire fenced around my sanity. naive fun these nocturnal notions; too convenient, genuine connection tied loosely i swear. until you slipped through, sucked my rationality slid by like autumn did. no more knocking, no longer will these bare bodies be closely knitted in cheap … More Pretty Face
sirens and breaking dish; tuck me in overnight post, isolated, addressed somewhere warm. there i will dance and dress the walls in in patient blue; somber, but hopeful; imagine the sea and hear myself think again Art By Henn Kim
Pockets of light soak the city. A flood of electric blue stains my white shirt. There is something about neon. It generates a translucent energy that fills your dark hollows like wine. Karaoke night and we are dilusional; let our bodies have it’s way, let your casing go. Dance In our fluidity. Below are some … More Low Lights and Long Nights
These saturated lights are like motifs in this city And they are trying to tell us something I’m sure of it. Is this a lucid dream? Floating down electric avenue, nostalgic to a song never ours. The homeless man cursed As we paused to ignite. But it’s romantic, … More Midnight Espresso After Moonlight
Pull me back in; Sheets the smell of comfort. Fold me into your arms like that origami on your desk, And outline my creases. I liked you best barefoot; The earths vibrations dance through your roots And you were born restless. I wouldn’t call this a love poem, But Sometimes, I saw our shadows roll … More Pull me back in
With a flick of her cigarette she gazed up at the boy. Poised against the wall she thought he was simply art, a soft watercolor with faint strokes imitating boats around his moon smile. “Cigarettes kill,” Cynical words spoken in honey; he took her offering. It is funny to know, we know the ghastly effect … More So, who said cigarettes can never be romantic?