Every Colour

What is space were blue instead of black?

Would you still fear death?

And if the rotted leaves were shown to breathe,

The trees upon their oaky knees


In a blaze of splendour;

Settling into death, near-death, the nearest they

Can be to death.

The dearest thing to me is death

And black, in fact, is every colour


Recent Posts

See All


I haven’t asked him for his number because now I am known, now the I-I-I am afraid, now I am up there on the raggedy cross with Christ: no longer unimaginable (so a little breathless), no number, no d

a better question

In the end, I suppose the better question is: how does the ocean feel about us?


I emerged from my door and carried into my present moment the quivering skeleton of a whom this poem is for, a what is trying to be accomplished. We are the escape artists. We point the way out. We pa

+1 (202) 384-5561

  • Visit my Facebook page!
  • Visit my Instagram

©2017 by The Kilele Project. Proudly created with