The Shadow Cycle

A collection of poems featuring my shadow.



He knows I want to talk about you - that I've been thinking about you the whole time. He can sense your ghost lying at my side in the grass.


It's a longer one, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read ;) I stand before the mirror, let my dress crumple to the floor, strip until all that is left is my necklace...


I fled England like a fugitive. Exiled, I flew south to a forgotten corner of France to tuck myself away in a world of orchards and stone cottages.


We share a cigarette, moving closer; inch by inch, drag by drag. Until his arm is around my waist, and he kisses me...

These Are The Days

We find ourselves huddled on a bench, by the Thames, opposite Big Ben - his bright, white face mirrored, not only in the river, but in the moon, pastelled onto a cloud at his side.
Gold cherry

Le Grand Départ

One, final ritual, before the 'Big Push' - 'Le Grand Départ...' I carefully remove all the posters, photos and cards from my bedroom walls.


I remember the way you lifted the glinting, silver pendant like a trapdoor - surprised to find a mark the metal had carved into my skin...