Inspired by Hans Christian Anderson’s ‘The Phoenix Bird’ There is a little egg buried in the depths of the rubble. Born out of the blood of the very first rose that fell on that very first day, under a sky alight with the sins of these self-anointed  gods it trembles here now in its nest…

I have loved you. I have let your branches wrap their olive arms around my arms I have found myself bloodied in your nets, burning in your music I have forgotten I was there. I have forgotten I was here. It was night. We built a ship. And sailed the flood. And great whales  in…