Stuart Miller-Osborne

We were in Coach D opposite the Rest Room sign Our train had stopped at a station named Lima I could see a signal at danger from my pale blue seat Eve was purchasing a soda from a vending machine outside

We changed trains earlier today The station was busy and very hot I found a small bookstall on the fourth platform And purchased a book of poems By a girl named Julie B The poems in no particular order were a la recherche d’une relation sérieuse Touching the Scriptures Del Mare The Monsoon Club Do […]

The stationmaster later told them As they waited for another train That these birds were the souls of villagers Returning to their former coastal homes

In the week that they spent at the campsite They both noticed a number of white birds That did not seem to belong to the sea And then these birds vanished As quickly as they first appeared

The idea that reality Is an illusion Does not mean That nothing exists I am sitting in front Of our travelling tent The air is warm We have views Across the bay The sun is setting Its theatre is immense Is my happiness Nothing but an illusion Or is it real

Happiness Is the proof Of my existence Without happiness The world is a fallow field

I do not know What made me So happy The long sandy beach The Sun The Sea Our wonderful swim Or seeing you fully naked For the first time Since we met

It was much cooler than I had expected I had brought a thick pullover More to use as a camping pillow But here I was wearing it in the city Eve was also wearing her blue hoodie As although the sun was white bright The wind was from a chilly direction Which was unusual for […]

Without your beauty This world is nothing Your hands Your eyes Your breasts Your smile Silence the words That no longer exist

The light that is lost In the universe Is never recovered Time is precious