the air was cloaked
in strokes
of gaiety.
of beating
hearts.
of remembrances.
of yesterdays.
of nows gone.
and nows become.
of us here.
spilling goodbyes.
pouring.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Tirza van Dijk
the air was cloaked
in strokes
of gaiety.
of beating
hearts.
of remembrances.
of yesterdays.
of nows gone.
and nows become.
of us here.
spilling goodbyes.
pouring.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Tirza van Dijk
The lights are falling into pools of moonlight
dripping across the night sky.
The windows are rolled down.
The music is playing.
The time is still.
You are there.
I am here.
There is a comfort
in the loudness
of the silence.
This is it.
© Hudson Biko
Words knock at the precipice of lips
like scratched CDs stuck in players
looping in frequencies
of infrequency
–some things are harder to say
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Ian Dooley