life in reykjavik

accumulations of snow

The sound of your nightmares filled a scream in a vodka-filled glass. I wanted to run , to hurl the words from my own dreamscape into your composition


dreams on a wednesday

csomic portal

We chose the silence of midnight amidst an ice storm

Love's Ivy

A single locket still clings to a windowsill embraced by brambles and ivy


In iceland, the wind carried the drift of morning coffee from your window on pingholstraetti street; the blue of the building melting into the winter sky. The walk up the hill to your door