There’s a certain shade
of teenage love
unlike any other
that time has to offer.

A passing flush
parades across the chest;
a formidable force
under the breast.

Heaving; heavy with
the weight of the First,
a confident uncertainty
of its own making
Sinking or Floating or Breaking
it becomes made.

A breathless vision;
here, well-hidden
in a canvas marred with age –
where vibrancy inevitably
has dried up like old paint
and succumbed slowly, under
silent fade.

Picture the seasoned lover
until the Last,
now warms with a pallet
of a predictable ensemble;
where a once-familiar hue
emerges as new.

Ah, the First –
a memory described
head-first deep-dive
into complete saturation,
summoned only in the tense
where once conquered all makings
now, washed from existence.

The Minx
I am a poser, an entertainer, a legend in my own lunchbox. I live for the weekends; Saturday, in particular. I spent eight years of my life in the middle of the desert. I am, and forever will be, a musician. I have recently liberated myself of all addiction, including caffeine and chocolate. I have been described as a dark beauty. I am intense. I am an entrepreneur. I have a big heart with open-invitation. I am a gypsy. I have a bad temper but it rarely comes to surface. I am a bookworm. I am reliable. I always on early to every apptime. I am a fiercely loyal friend. I love getting my hands dirty in the garden. I am an early bird. I am an idealist. Red is my favourite colour. Patience is a virtue I do not possess. I have a queen-sized bed and only sleep on one side. The library is my favourite place in the world. I have been referred to as the fearless one by my family. I love the city. I am ambitious. I have a collection of expensive stilettos, bandannas and vintage handbags. I love the dancefloor. Musk is my favourite scent. I dream most nights. I love the rain.