along flinders lane.

© emilly at deviantart.

Yesterday: a whisper, a stirring
along the pavement,

the movement
of cigarette butts, paper bags,
discarded faith.

Another step down this lonely
laneway. I tilt my face and

catch a first glimpse of sky.

that was just a dream.

© smellout at deviantart.

this shoreline, our shipwreck; our
only solace. the light doesn't

think to find us here. time's endless
drift, through my fingers. your

pale shoulder, your luminous
glow. nothing pains me, now.

---



I'm quite enjoying this already. This piece feels awkward and childish to me, but it reminds me of a dream I had and somebody important to me, so. WHAT-EVER.

after the bomb drops.

© viscosa at deviantart.

Shattered glass. Skeletons
of steel. An unfinished
message, scrawled

on the burnt-out buildings
the trains never pass,
anymore. Your voice

echoing in the blank
space, folding back in
on itself. Twilight; back to

dawn. Light, dancing
nakedly, openly,
in the streets where we

once could have. The
sirens have long since faded
into the gray. The view

from this bridge
is no longer beautiful. Oxygen.
Neon. Underground.

(Keep this secret.)

--



So, hi. For those who don't know me: Miki (female, Japanese-Australian), seventeen, a reasonably-proud inhabitant of the city of Melbourne. Assuming this blog is updated more than once, I foresee it being home to a mishmash of my poetry, photography, artwork, and half thought-out musings. It's lovely meeting you.