Alone with thoughts of wolves, the forest and the way her body bent and bowed last night as he moved to the beat of a silent drum, he thinks of primitive sexual delights.

Tarella swept into his world with such force that Matthew finds difficulty in understanding what the day will bring.

It was just a look at the club. There was never meant to be a connection, but it happened and now he’s hooked.

Being with her flesh, bending their bodies together, biting her flesh, the way she pressed her thighs together in anticipation of what she called, “the second coming”, and the beating of her Viking heart all cast a spell that cannot be broken.

Still thinking of her, he’s roused from daydreaming dark pleasures to a knock on the door. He thinks, “Who could be here tonight? I wonder if it’s Tarella? I wonder if my very thoughts willed her here?”

Unable to think clearly, Matthew pads to the door. With a carefree air, he opens the door to a wild and beautiful Tarella. “What is it about her teeth that are different?” he wonders.

“Hello…I wasn’t expecting you…would you like me to cook something?”

“You have to ask me to come in Matthew…you know it’s only polite to do so…”

Matthew falters for a moment, but then denies that his gut is on point, “…Please come in, Tarella…”

She steps across the threshold and they kiss. “I was wrong to think anything was wrong. She is so beautiful and so lovely, yet there’s this feeling…”

A sudden pain grips him tight, “It’s only her teeth in my neck…she wants me…Wait! What the fuck!”

He breaks free from her bloodied lips to run for the cleaver, but her grip is crushing the life from his bones. She sinks her teeth into his neck again and he feels life fall from him as the world goes cold and foggy.

In the darkness, he emerges cold and wired. He struggles to think, “It was a terrible dream. She is close and I’m alive, yet…”

Tarella smiles her sweet smile and says, “Hello my love…now you’re just like me…”

Anger rises in Matthew’s cold heart which fails to beat, “What! What…have…you did?”

“You’re a vampire now you idiot! Get over it and come play with me…”

Two Humans

Your chest hurts after the two of you fight, then you feel wretched at the hurt he anchors to the shore again.

You want to be understood, but the words and your overthinking mind both get in the way to betray who you really are.

Your hurting so strongly that your chest aches and your blood boils, as you feel the weight of it all.

His anchor won’t remain in the sea for very long, so don’t throw yourself into the deep waters of emotion;
there’s no need to lose yourself.

It’s only another fight.

You are both humans.

Soon you’ll both return
to your journey on
the sea of your lives.

Australien Sun

Sometimes, when she sits on the step, she thinks about places. Places connect us to memories, as does music and scent.

She thinks of the cool water of Nelson Bay and the pretty lighthouse on the hill. This connects her to her sister.

She thinks of the grey days with coffee on every corner, a European feel, and a charm only Melbourne emits. This connects her to her home.

She thinks of young days with a hammer for macadamia nuts and corkscrews for coconut eyes in Mareeba. This connects her to her origins.

All of these memories play behind her eyes, as she looks to the red dirt full of cracks under the Australien sun.

The photo is of the place we hammered macadamia nuts as kids.

Along the Kyle

Hills of green can be seen far and wide, although, down here forever is blind.

The sky is shy today, as he decides that we all need a decent dose of grey without rain.

Winds flow through the castle which once housed our family and our loved hearts.

The sky knows what my heart feels, but he’s always been good at knowing this.

I’ve travelled far and wide to try and escape the pain I feel missing you, but I cannot keep going forever.

The sky tells the rain to hold off. The rain tells the sky to fuck off. How like a married couple these two are in retrospect.

Walking along the Kyle, I know the time nears. How wonderful that after 100 years of your moods, you and I will meet again.

The rain begins to fall. It looks like the rain won that argument. Perhaps I will too.

Waiting for You

This world wasn’t meant for the weak, but am I really that strong?

I see you in another land with a pink smile and shining eyes, but is that really you in there?

Sitting in my room with mould on the walls and a cold chill that seeps through, I’m reminded of poverty.

Yet, when I look out the window I see the highlands calling. The streams and mountains call from somewhere ancient to tell me it will be alright.

As I look at the mirror black, I see a face I barely recognise staring back;
yet there’s familiarity in those eyes and in those lips.

Undecided yet hopeful, I run outside and towards the hills.

It’s not awful to run, but the sky is so beautiful and grey today.

I wonder when you’ll find me standing by a bin in some random street waiting to touch you again.